SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 


SOUTH-SEA    IDYLS 


BY 

CHARLES  WARREN  STODDARD 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1921 


to 


COPYRIGHT,  1873,  1892,  »v 
CHARLES  WARREN  STODDARD 


THE  8CRIBNER  PRE88 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER 

By  W.  D.  HOWELLS 

YORKE  HARBOR,  August  11, 1892. 
MY  DEAR  STODDABD: 

It  gives  me  such  very  great  pleasure  to  hear  you 
are  bringing  out  a  new  edition  of  South  Sea  Idyls 
that  I  cannot  help  telling  you  of  it.  You  knew 
long  ago  how  I  delighted  in  those  things,  the  light- 
est, sweetest,  wildest,  freshest  things  that  ever  were 
written  about  the  life  of  that  summer  ocean.  I  be- 
lieve I  was  first  to  feel  their  rare  quality,  and  I  hope 
you  won't  correct  me  if  I  wasn't,  for  I  have  always 
been  proud  of  it.  I  remember  very  well  my  joy  in 
"  A  Prodigal  in  Tahiti,"  when  I  accepted  it  for  the 
Atlantic  Monthly,  and  I  think,  now,  that  there  are 
few  such  delicious  bits  of  literature  in  the  language. 
The  rest  rise  up  like  old  memories  of  delight — 
graceful  shapes,  careless,  beautiful,  with  a  kind  of 
undying  youth  in  them,  which  I  frankly  told  you, 
when  we  first  met  many  years  after  they  were  writ- 
ten, I  was  disappointed  not  to  find  in  you.  You 
did  not  retort,  and  of  course  I  was  not  reasonable. 
But  my  words  should  have  served  to  show  you  how 
fast  a  hold  your  "  Idyls "  had  kept  on  my  fancy, 


r;   >  ki 


VI  INTRODUCTORY  LETTER 

and  what  they  had  taught  me  to  expect  of  you. 
They  always  seemed  to  me  of  the  very  make  of  the 
tropic  spray,  which 

"Knows  not  if  it  be  sea  or  sun." 

I  do  not  see  why  they  did  not  flow  in  rhythm 
under  your  hand,  except  that  they  found  a  prose 
there  which  was  fluent  and  musical  enough  for 
them ;  or  had  had  too  much  of  your  mustang 
humor  in  them  to  go  willingly  in  harness. 

One  does  these  things  but  once,  if  one  ever  does 
them,  but  you  have  done  them  once  for  all ;  no  one 
need  ever  write  of  the  South  Seas  again.  I  am  glad 
the  public  is  to  have  another  chance  to  know  what  a 
treasure  it  has  in  your  book,  for  I  do  not  think  it 
has  had  a  fair  chance  yet.  Our  dear  Osgood  (peace 
to  his  generous  soul !)  brought  out  the  American 
edition  on  the  eve  of  the  great  panic  of  '73,  and  so 
it  did  not  count ;  and  your  London  publisher  de- 
famed your  delicate  and  charming  text  with  illus- 
trations so  vulgar  and  repulsive  that  I  do  not  think 
anyone  could  have  looked  twice  inside  the  abomin- 
able cover.  Now  I  hope  your  luck  is  coming,  and 
that  the  whole  English-reading  world  will  recognize 
in  your  work  the  classic  it  should  have  known  be- 
fore. 

Yours  ever, 

W.  D.  HOWELLS. 


CONTENTS 


PAGJt 

IN  THE  CRADLE  OP  THE  DEEP, 1 

CHUMMING  WITH  A  SAVAGE. 

*  I.  KANA-ANA, .18 

*  II.  How  I  CONVERTED  MY  CANNIBAL,        .       .      86 

*  III.  BARBARIAN  DAYS, 49 

TABOO — A  FETE-DAY  IN  TAHITI,       .       .  .70 

JOE  OP  LAHAINA, 100 

THE  NIGHT-DANCERS  OP  WAIPIO,      ....  115 

PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS 132 

A  TROPICAL  SEQUENCE, 154 

A  CANOE-CRUISE  IN  THE  CORAL  SEA,      .       .       .171 

UNDER  A  GRASS  ROOP, 183 

MY  SOUTH-SEA  SHOW, 187 

THE  HOUSE  OP  THE  SUN, 204 

THE  CHAPEL  OP  THE  PALMS, 222 

KAH£LE, 239 

KAHELE'S  FOREORDINATIOH, 261 

LOVE-LIFE  IN  A  LANAI,     ......  273 

IN  A  TRANSPORT, 289 

A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI,     ......  311 


TO  MY  DEAR  OLD   FRIEND 

ANTON    ROMAN 

OF 

SAN   FRANCISCO 
ORIGINATOR   AND   FOUNDER  OF 

Gbe  ©verlauD  tfbontblg 


THE  COCOA-TREB 

CAST  on  the  water  by  a  careless  band, 

Day  after  day  the  winds  persuaded  me  J 

Onward  I  drifted  till  a  coral-tree 
Stayed  me  among  its  branches,  where  the  sand 

Gathered  about  me,  and  I  slowly  grew, 

Fed  by  the  constant  sun  and  the  inconstant  dew. 

The  sea  birds  build  their  nests  against  my  root, 

And  eye  my  slender  body's  horny  case. 

Widowed  within  this  solitary  place 
Into  the  thankless  sea  I  cast  my  fruit ; 

Joyless  I  thrive,  for  no  man  may  partake 

Of  all  the  store  I  bear  and  harvest  for  his  sake. 

No  more  I  heed  the  kisses  of  the  morn  ; 

The  harsh  winds  rob  me  of  the  life  they  gave  j 
I  watch  my  tattered  shadow  in  the  wave, 

And  hourly  droop  and  nod  my  crest  forlorn, 
While  all  my  fibres  stiffen  and  grow  numb 
Beck'ning  the  tardy  ships,  the  ships  that  never  coma  I 


IN  THE  CRADLE  OF  THE  DEEP 


FORTY  days  in  the  great  desert  of  the  sea — 
forty  nights  camped  under  cloud-canopies, 
with  the  salt  dust  of  the  waves  drifting  over  us. 
Sometimes  a  Bedouin  sail  flashed  for  an  hour  upon 
the  distant  horizon,  and  then  faded,  and  we  were 
alone  again  ;  sometimes  the  west,  at  sunset,  looked 
like  a  city  with  towers,  and  we  bore  down  upon  its 
glorified  walls,  seeking  a  haven ;  but  a  cold  gray 
morning  dispelled  the  illusion,  and  our  hearts  sank 
back  into  the  illimitable  sea,  breathing  a  long  prayer 
for  deliverance. 

Once  a  green  oasis  blossomed  before  us — a  gar- 
den in  perfect  bloom,  girded  about  with  creaming 
waves  ;  within  its  coral  cincture  pendulous  boughs 
trailed  in  the  glassy  waters  ;  from  its  hidden  bow- 
ers spiced  airs  stole  down  upon  us  ;  above  all 
the  triumphant  palm-trees  clashed  their  melodious 
branches  like  a  chorus  with  cymbals  ;  yet  from  the 
very  gates  of  this  paradise  a  changeful  current 
swept  us  onward,  and  the  happy  isle  was  buried 
in  night  and  distance. 

In  many  volumes  of  adventure  I  had  read  of  sea- 
perils  :  I  was  at  last  to  learn  the  full  interpretation 
of  their  picturesque  horrors.  Our  little  craft,  the 


SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 


Petrel,  had  buffeted  the  boisterous  waves  for  five 
long  weeks.  Fortunately,  the  bulk  of  her  cargo 
was  edible  ;  we  feared  neither  famine  nor  thirst. 
Moreover,  in  spite  of  the  continuous  gale  that  swept 
us  out  of  our  reckoning,  the  Petrel  was  in  excellent 
condition,  and,  as  far  as  we  could  judge,  we  had  no 
reason  to  lose  confidence  in  her.  It  was  the  gray 
weather  that  tried  our  patience  and  found  us  want- 
ing ;  it  was  the  unparalleled  pitching  of  the  ninety- 
ton  schooner  that  disheartened  and  almost  dis- 
membered us.  And  then  it  was  wasting  time  at 
sea.  Why  were  we  not  long  before  at  our  journey's 
end?  Why  were  we  not  threading  the  vales  of 
some  savage  island,  and  reaping  our  rich  reward  of 
ferns  and  shells  and  gorgeous  butterflies  ? 

The  sea  rang  its  monotonous  changes  —  fair 
weather  and  foul,  days  like  death  itself,  followed  by 
days  full  of  the  revelations  of  new  life  ;  but  mostly 
days  of  deadly  dulness,  when  the  sea  was  as  unpo- 
etical  as  an  eternity  of  cold  suds  and  bluing. 

I  cannot  always  understand  the  logical  fitness  of 
things,  or,  rather,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  why  some 
things  in  life  are  so  unfit  and  illogical.  Of  course, 
in  our  darkest  hour,  when  we  were  gathered  in  the 
confines  of  the  Petrel's  diminutive  cabin,  it  was  our 
duty  to  sing  psalms  of  hope  and  cheer,  but  we 
didn't.  It  was  a  time  for  mutual  encouragement : 
very  few  of  us  were  self-sustaining,  and  what  was  to 
be  gained  by  our  combining  in  unanimous  despair? 

Our  weather-beaten  skipper — a  thing  of  clay  that 
seemed  utterly  incapable  of  any  expression  what- 


IN  THE   CRADLE   OF  THE   DEEP  3 

ever,  save  in  the  slight  facial  contortion  consequent 
to  the  mechanical  movement  of  his  lower  jaw — the 
skipper  sat,  with  barometer  in  hand,  eying  the 
fatal  finger  that  pointed  to  our  doom  ;  the  rest  of 
us  were  lashed  to  the  legs  of  the  centre-table,  glad 
of  any  object  to  fix  our  eyes  upon,  and  nervously 
awaiting  a  turn  in  the  state  of  affairs,  that  was  then 
by  no  means  encouraging. 

I  happened  to  remember  that  there  were  some 
sealed  letters  to  be  read  from  time  to  time  on  the 
passage  out,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  one  of  the 
times  had  come — perhaps  the  last  and  only — where- 
in I  might  break  the  remaining  seals  and  receive  a 
sort  of  parting  visit  from  the  fortunate  friends  on 
shore. 

I  opened  one  letter  and  read  these  prophetic 
lines:  "Dear  child" — she  was  twice  my  age,  and 
privileged  to  make  a  pet  of  me — "  dear  child,  I 
have  a  presentiment  that  we  shall  never  meet  again 
in  the  flesh." 

That  dear  girl's  intuition  came  near  to  being  the 
death  of  me.  I  shuddered  where  I  sat,  overcome 
with  remorse.  It  was  enough  that  I  had  turned  my 
back  on  her  and  sought  consolation  in  the  treacher- 
ous bosom  of  the  ocean ;  that,  having  failed  to  find 
the  spring  of  immortal  life  in  human  affection,  I 
had  packed  up  and  emigrated,  content  to  fly  the  ills 
I  had  in  search  of  change  ;  but  that  parting  shot, 
below  the  water-line  as  it  were  —  that  was  more 
than  I  asked  for,  and  something  more  than  I  could 
stomach,  I  returned  to  watch  with  the  rest  of  our 


4  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

little  company,  who  clung  about  the  table  with  a 
pitiful  sense  of  momentary  security,  and  an  expres- 
sion of  pathetic  condolence  on  every  countenance, 
as  though  each  was  sitting  out  the  last  hours  of  the 
others. 

Our  particular  bane  that  night  was  a  crusty  old 
sea-dog  whose  memory  of  wrecks  and  marine  disas- 
ters of  every  conceivable  nature  was  as  complete  as 
an  encyclopaedia.  This  "  old  man  of  the  sea  "  spun 
his  tempestuous  yarn  with  fascinating  composure, 
and  the  whole  company  was  awed  into  silence  with 
the  haggard  realism  of  his  narrative.  The  cabin 
must  have  been  air-tight — it  was  as  close  as  possible 
— yet  we  heard  the  shrieking  of  the  wind  as  it  tore 
through  the  rigging,  and  the  long  hiss  of  the  waves 
rushing  past  us  with  lightning  speed.  Sometimes 
an  avalanche  of  foam  buried  us  for  a  moment,  and 
the  Petrel  trembled  like  a  living  thing  stricken  with 
sudden  fear  ;  we  seemed  to  be  hanging  on  the  crust 
of  a  great  bubble  that  was,  sooner  or  later,  certain 
to  burst,  and  let  us  drop  into  its  vast,  black  chasm, 
where,  in  Cimmerian  darkness,  we  should  be  en- 
tombed forever. 

The  scenic  effect,  as  I  then  considered,  was  un- 
necessarily vivid  ;  as  I  now  recall  it,  it  seems  to  me 
strictly  in  keeping  and  thoroughly  dramatic.  At 
any  rate,  you  might  have  told  us  a  dreadful  story 
with  almost  fatal  success. 

I  had  still  one  letter  left,  one  bearing  this  sug- 
gestive legend:  "To  be  read  in  the  saddest  hour." 
Now,  if  there  is  a  sadder  hour  in  all  time  than  the 


ftf  THE   CRADLE   OF  THE  DEEP  $ 

hour  of  hopeless  and  friendless  death,  I  care  not  to 
know  of  it.  I  broke  the  seal  of  my  letter,  feeling 
that  something  charitable  and  cheering  would  give 
me  strength.  A  few  dried  leaves  were  stored  within 
it.  The  faint  fragrance  of  summer  bowers  reassured 
me  :  somewhere  in  the  blank  world  of  waters  there 
was  land,  and  there  Nature  was  kind  and  fruitful ; 
out  over  the  fearful  deluge  this  leaf  was  borne  to  me 
in  the  return  of  the  invisible  dove  my  heart  had  sent 
forth  in  its  extremity.  A  song  was  written  therein, 
perhaps  a  song  of  triumph.  I  could  now  silence 
the  clamorous  tongue  of  our  sea-monster,  who  was 
glutting  us  with  tales  of  horror,  for  a  jubilee  was  at 
hand,  and  here  was  the  first  note  of  its  trumpets. 
I  read  : 

"  Beyond  the  parting  and  the  meeting, 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  farewell  and  the  greeting, 
Beyond  the  pulse's  fever-beating, 
I  shall  be  soon." 

I  paused.  A  night  black  with  croaking  ravens, 
brooding  over  a  slimy  hulk,  through  whose  warped 
timbers  the  sea  oozed — that  was  the  sort  of  picture 
that  rose  before  me.  I  looked  further  for  a  crumb 
of  comfort : 

"  Beyond  the  gathering  and  the  strewing, 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  ebbing  and  the  flowing, 
Beyond  the  coming  and  the  going, 

I  shall  be  soon." 


6  SOUTH- SEA    IDYLS 

A  tide  of  ice-water  seemed  rippling  up  and  down 
my  spinal  column  ;  the  marrow  congealed  within 
my  bones.  But  I  recovered.  When  a  man  has 
supped  full  of  horror  and  there  is  no  immediate 
climax,  he  can  collect  himself  and  be  compara- 
tively brave.  A  reaction  restored  my  soul. 

Once  more  the  melancholy  chronicler  of  the  ill- 
fated  Petrel  resumed  his  lugubrious  narrative.  I 
resolved  to  listen,  while  the  skipper  eyed  the  ba- 
rometer, and  we  all  rocked  back  and  forth  in  search 
of  the  centre  of  gravity,  looking  like  a  troupe  of 
mechanical  block-heads  nodding  in  idiotic  unison. 
All  this  time  the  little  craft  drifted  helplessly,  "  hove 
to  "  in  the  teeth  of  the  gale. 

The  sea-dog's  yarn  was  something  like  this :  He 
once  knew  a  lonesome  man  who  floated  about  in  a 
waterlogged  hulk  for  three  months  ;  who  saw  all  his 
comrades  starve  and  die,  one  after  another,  and  at 
last  kept  watch  alone,  craving  and  beseeching  death. 
It  was  the  stanch  French  brig  Mouette,  bound 
south  into  the  equatorial  seas.  She  had  seen  rough 
weather  from  the  first :  day  after  day  the  winds  in- 
creased, and  finally  a  cyclone  burst  upon  her  with 
insupportable  fury.  The  brig  was  thrown  upon  her 
beam-ends,  and  began  to  fill  rapidly.  With  much 
difficulty  her  main-mast  was  cut  away,  she  righted, 
and  lay  in  the  trough  of  the  sea  rolling  like  a  log. 
Gradually  the  gale  subsided,  but  the  hull  of  the  brig 
was  swept  continually  by  the  tremendous  swell,  and 
the  men  were  driven  into  the  foretop  cross  trees, 
where  they  rigged  a  tent  for  shelter  and  gathered 


IN  THE   CRADLE    OF  THE  DEEP  *] 

what  few  stores  were  left  them  from  the  wreck.  A 
dozen  wretched  souls  lay  in  their  stormy  nest  for 
three  whole  days  in  silence  and  despair.  By  this 
time  their  scanty  stores  were  exhausted,  and  not  a 
drop  of  water  remained ;  then  their  tongues  were 
loosened,  and  they  railed  at  the  Almighty.  Some 
wept  like  children,  some  cursed  their  fate.  One  man 
alone  was  speechless — a  Spaniard,  with  a  wicked 
light  in  his  eye,  and  a  repulsive  manner  that  had 
made  trouble  in  the  forecastle  more  than  once. 

When  hunger  had  driven  them  nearly  to  madness 
they  were  fed  in  an  almost  miraculous  manner. 
Several  enormous  sharks  had  been  swimming  about 
the  brig  for  some  hours,  and  the  hungry  sailors  were 
planning  various  projects  for  the  capture  of  them. 
Tough  as  a  shark  is,  they  would  willingly  have  risked 
life  for  a  few  raw  mouthf uls  of  the  same.  Somehow, 
though  the  sea  was  still  and  the  wind  light,  the  brig 
gave  a  sudden  lurch  and  dipped  up  one  of  the  mon- 
sters, who  was  quite  secure  in  the  shallow  aquarium 
between  the  gunwales.  He  was  soon  despatched, 
and  divided  equally  among  the  crew.  Some  ate  a 
little,  and  reserved  the  rest  for  another  day  ;  some 
ate  till  they  were  sick,  and  had  little  left  for  the 
next  meal.  The  Spaniard  with  the  evil  eye  greedily 
devoured  his  portion,  and  then  grew  moody  again, 
refusing  to  speak  with  the  others,  who  were  striv- 
ing to  be  cheerful,  though  it  was  sad  enough 
work. 

When  the  food  was  all  gone  save  a  few  mouthf  uls 
that  one  meagre  eater  had  hoarded  to  the  last,  the 


8  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

Spaniard  resolved  to  secure  a  morsel  at  the  risk  of 
his  life.  It  had  been  a  point  of  honor  with  the  men 
to  observe  sacredly  the  right  of  ownership,  and  any 
breach  of  confidence  would  have  been  considered 
unpardonable.  At  night,  when  the  watch  was  sleep- 
ing, the  Spaniard  cautiously  removed  the  last 
mouthful  of  shark  hidden  in  the  pocket  of  his  mate, 
but  was  immediately  detected  and  accused  of  theft. 
He  at  once  grew  desperate,  struck  at  the  poor  wretch 
whom  he  had  robbed,  missed  his  blow,  and  fell 
headlong  from  the  narrow  platform  in  the  foretop, 
and  was  lost  in  the  sea.  It  was  the  first  scene  in 
the  mournful  tragedy  about  to  be  enacted  on  that 
limited  stage. 

There  was  less  disturbance  after  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  Spaniard.  The  spirits  of  the  doomed 
sailors  seemed  broken  ;  in  fact,  the  captain  was  the 
only  one  whose  courage  was  noteworthy,  and  it  was 
his  indomitable  will  that  ultimately  saved  him. 

One  by  one  the  minds  of  the  miserable  men  gave 
way ;  they  became  peevish  or  delirious,  and  then 
died  horribly.  Two,  who  had  been  mates  for  many 
voyages  in  the  seas  north  and  south,  vanished  mys- 
teriously in  the  night ;  no  one  could  tell  where  they 
went  or  in  what  manner,  though  they  seemed  to 
have  gone  together. 

Somehow,  these  famishing  sailors  seemed  to  feel 
assured  that  their  captain  would  be  saved  ;  they 
were  as  confident  of  their  own  doom,  and  to  him 
they  intrusted  a  thousand  messages  of  love.  They 
would  lie  around  him — for  few  of  them  had  strength 


IN  THE   CRADLE   OF  THE  DEEP  9 

to  assume  a  sitting  posture — and  reveal  to  him  the 
story  of  their  lives.  It  was  most  pitiable  to  hear 
the  confessions  of  these  dying  men.  One  said  :  "I 
wronged  my  friend ;  I  was  unkind  to  this  one  or  to 
that  one  ;  I  deserve  the  heaviest  punishment  God 
can  inflict  upon  me  ; "  and  then  he  paused,  overcome 
with  emotion.  But  another  took  up  the  refrain  : 
"  I  could  have  done  much  good,  but  I  would  not, 
and  now  it  is  too  late."  And  a  third  cried  out  in 
his  despair,  "  I  have  committed  unpardonable  sins, 
and  there  is  no  hope  for  me.  Lord  Jesus,  have 
mercy!"  The  youngest  of  these  perishing  souls 
was  a  mere  lad ;  he,  too,  accused  himself  bitterly. 
He  began  his  story  at  the  beginning,  and  continued 
it  from  time  to  time  as  the  spirit  of  revelation  moved 
him  ;  scarcely  an  incident,  however  insignificant, 
escaped  him  in  his  pitiless  retrospect.  Oh,  the  keen 
agony  of  that  boy's  recital !  more  cruel  than  hunger 
or  thirst,  and  in  comparison  with  which  physical 
torture  would  have  seemed  merciful  and  any  death 
a  blessing. 

While  the  luckless  Mouette  drifted  aimlessly 
about,  driven  slowly  onward  by  varying  winds  under 
a  cheerless  sky,  sickness  visited  them.  Some  were 
stricken  with  scurvy  ;  some  had  lost  the  use  of  their 
limbs  and  lay  helpless,  moaning  and  weeping  hour 
after  hour  ;  vermin  devoured  them  ;  and  when  their 
garments  were  removed,  and  cleansed  in  the  salt 
water,  there  was  scarcely  sunshine  enough  to  dry 
them  before  night,  and  they  were  put  on  again, 
damp,  stiffened  with  salt,  and  shrunken  so  as  to  crip- 


IO  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

pie  the  wearers,  who  were  all  blistered  and  covered 
with  boils.  The  nights  were  bitter  cold  :  sometimes 
the  icy  moon  looked  down  upon  them  ;  sometimes 
the  bosom  of  an  electric  cloud  burst  over  them,  and 
they  were  enveloped  for  a  moment  in  a  sheet  of  flame. 
Sharks  lingered  about  them,  waiting  to  feed  upon 
the  unhappy  ones  who  fell  into  the  sea  overcome 
with  physical  exhaustion,  or  who  cast  themselves 
from  that  dizzy  scaffold,  unable  longer  to  endure 
the  horrors  of  lingering  death.  Flocks  of  sea-fowl 
hovered  over  them ;  the  hull  of  the  Mouette  was 
crusted  with  barnacles ;  long  skeins  of  sea-grass 
knotted  themselves  in  her  gaping  seams  ;  myriads 
of  fish  darted  in  and  out  among  the  clinging  weeds, 
sporting  gleefully ;  schools  of  porpoises  leaped 
about  them,  lashing  the  sea  into  foam ;  sometimes 
a  whale  blew  his  long  breath  close  under  them. 
Everywhere  was  the  stir  of  jubilant  life — every- 
where but  under  the  tattered  awning  stretched  in 
the  foretop  of  the  Mouette. 

Days  and  weeks  dragged  on.  When  the  captain 
would  waken  from  his  sleep — which  was  not  always 
at  night,  however,  for  the  nights  were  miserably 
cold  and  sleepless — when  he  wakened  he  would 
call  the  roll.  Perhaps  some  one  made  no  answer  ; 
then  he  would  reach  forth  and  touch  the  speechless 
body  and  find  it  dead.  He  had  not  strength  now 
to  bury  the  corpses  in  the  sea's  sepulchre  ;  he  had 
not  strength  even  to  partake  of  the  unholy  feast  of 
the  inanimate  flesh.  He  lay  there  in  the  midst  of 
pestilence  ;  and  at  night,  under  the  merciful  veil  of 


IN  THE   CRADLE    OF   THE  DEEP  If 

darkness,  the  fowls  of  the  air  gathered  about  him 
and  bore  away  their  trophy  of  corruption. 

By  and  by  there  were  but  two  left  of  all  that  suf- 
fering crew — the  captain  and  the  boy — and  these 
two  clung  together  like  ghosts,  defying  mortality. 
They  strove  to  be  patient  and  hopeful :  if  they 
could  not  eat,  they  could  drink,  for  the  nights  were 
dewy,  and  sometimes  a  mist  covered  them — a  mist 
so  dense  it  seemed  almost  to  drip  from  the  rags  that 
poorly  sheltered  them.  A  cord  was  attached  to  the 
shrouds,  the  end  of  it  carefully  laid  in  the  mouth  of 
a  bottle  slung  in  the  rigging.  Down  the  thin  cord 
slid  occasional  drops  ;  one  by  one  they  stole  into 
the  bottle,  and  by  morning  there  was  a  spoonful  of 
water  to  moisten  those  parched  lips — sweet,  crystal 
drops,  more  blessed  than  tears,  for  they  are  salt ; 
more  precious  than  pearls.  A  thousand  prayers  of 
gratitude  seemed  hardly  to  quiet  the  souls  of  the 
lingering  ones  for  that  great  charity  of  Heaven. 

There  came  a  day  when  the  hearts  of  God's  angels 
must  have  bled  for  the  suffering  ones.  The  breeze 
was  fresh  and  fair ;  the  sea  tossed  gayly  its  foam- 
crested  waves  ;  sea-birds  soared  in  wider  circles ; 
and  the  clouds  shook  out  their  fleecy  folds,  through 
which  the  sunlight  streamed  in  grateful  warmth. 
The  two  ghosts  were  talking,  as  ever,  of  home,  of 
earth,  of  land.  Land — land  anywhere,  so  that  it 
were  solid  and  broad.  Oh,  to  pace  again  a  whole 
league  without  turning !  Oh,  to  pause  in  the  shadow 
of  some  living  tree !  To  drink  of  some  stream 
whose  waters  flowed  continually ;  flowed,  though 


12  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

you  drank  of  them  with  the  awful  thirst  of  one  who 
has  been  denied  water  for  weeks  and  weeks  and 
weeks,  for  three  whole  months — an  eternity,  as  it 
seemed  to  them. 

Then  they  pictured  life  as  it  might  be  if  God  per- 
mitted them  to  return  to  earth  once  more.  They 

would  pace  K Street  at  noon,  and  revisit  that 

capital  restaurant  where  many  a  time  they  had 
feasted,  though  in  those  days  they  were  unknown  to 
one  another;  they  would  call  for  coffee,  and  this 
dish  and  that  dish,  and  a  whole  bill  of  fare,  the 
thought  of  which  made  their  feverish  palates  grow 
moist  again.  They  would  meet  friends  whom  they 
had  never  loved  as  they  now  loved  them  ;  they 
would  reconcile  old  feuds  and  forgive  everybody 
everything  ;  they  held  imaginary  conversations,  and 
found  life  very  beautiful  and  greatly  to  be  desired  ; 
and  somehow  they  would  get  back  to  the  little  cafe 
and  there  begin  eating  again,  and  with  a  relish  that 
brought  the  savory  tastes  and  smells  vividly  before 
them,  and  their  lips  would  move  and  the  impalpable 
morsels  roll  sweetly  over  their  tongues. 

It  had  become  a  second  nature  to  scour  the  hori- 
zon with  jealous  eyes  ;  never  for  a  moment  during 
their  long  martyrdom  had  their  covetous  sight  fixed 
upon  a  stationary  object.  But  it  came  at  last.  Out 
of  a  cloud  a  sail  burst  like  a  flickering  flame.  What 
an  age  it  was  a-coming  1  how  it  budded  and  blos- 
somed like  a  glorious  white  flower,  that  was  trans- 
formed suddenly  into  a  bark  bearing  down  upon 
them !  Almost  within  hail  it  stayed  its  course,  the 


IN  THE   CRADLE   OF  THE  DEEP  1 3 

canvas  fluttered  in  the  wind  ;  the  dark  hull  slowly 
rose  and  fell  upon  the  water  ;  figures  moved  to  and 
fro — men,  living  and  breathing  men  !  Then  the 
ghosts  staggered  to  their  feet  and  cried  to  God  for 
mercy.  Then  they  waved  their  arms,  and  beat  their 
breasts,  and  lifted  up  their  imploring  voices,  be- 
seeching deliverance  out  of  that  horrible  bondage. 
Tears  coursed  down  their  hollow  cheeks,  their  limbs 
quaked,  their  breath  failed  them ;  they  sank  back 
in  despair,  speechless  and  forsaken. 

Why  did  they  faint  in  the  hour  of  deliverance 
when  that  narrow  chasm  was  all  that  separated 
them  from  renewed  life  ?  Because  the  bark  spread 
out  her  great  white  wings  and  soared  away,  hearing 
not  the  faint  voices,  seeing  not  the  thin  shadows 
that  haunted  that  drifting  wreck.  The  forsaken 
ones  looked  out  from  their  eyrie,  and  watched  the 
lessening  sail  until  sight  failed  them  ;  and  then  the 
lad,  with  one  wild  cry,  leaped  toward  the  speeding 
bark,  and  was  swallowed  up  in  the  sea. 

Alone  in  a  wilderness  of  waters.  Alone,  without 
compass  or  rudder,  borne  on  by  relentless  winds 
into  the  lonesome,  dreary,  shoreless  ocean  of  de- 
spair, within  whose  blank  and  forbidding  sphere 
no  voyager  ventures  ;  across  whose  desolate  waste 
dawn  sends  no  signal  and  night  brings  no  reprieve  ; 
but  whose  sun  is  cold,  and  whose  moon  is  clouded, 
and  whose  stars  withdraw  into  space,  and  where  the 
insufferable  silence  of  vacancy  shall  not  be  broken 
for  all  time. 

O  pitiless  Nature !    thy   irrevocable  laws  argue 


14  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

sore  sacrifice  in  the  waste  places  of  God's  uni 
verse !  .  .  .  . 

The  Petrel  gave  a  tremendous  lurch,  that  sent  two 
or  three  of  us  into  the  lee  corners  of  the  cabin  ;  a 
sea  broke  over  us,  bursting  in  the  companion-hatch, 
and  half  filling  our  small  and  insecure  retreat.  The 
swinging-lamp  was  thrown  from  its  socket  and  ex- 
tinguished ;  we  were  enveloped  in  pitch  darkness, 
up  to  our  knees  in  salt  water.  There  was  a  moment 
of  awful  silence  ;  we  could  not  tell  whether  the 
light  of  day  would  ever  visit  us  again  ;  we  thought 
perhaps  it  wouldn't.  But  the  Petrel  rose  once  more 
upon  the  watery  hill-tops  and  shook  herself  free  of 
the  cumbersome  deluge  ;  and  at  that  point,  when 
she  seemed  to  be  riding  more  easily  than  usual, 
some  one  broke  the  silence:  "Well,  did  the  captain 
of  the  Mouette  live  to  tell  the  tale  ?" 

Yes,  he  did.  God  sent  a  messenger  into  the 
lonesome  deep,  where  the  miserable  man  was  found 
insensible,  with  eyes  wide  open  against  the  sunlight, 
and  lips  shrunken  apart  —  a  hideous,  breathing 
corpse.  When  he  was  lifted  in  the  arms  of  the 
brave  fellows  who  had  gone  to  his  rescue,  he  cried, 
"  Good  God  !  am  I  saved  ?  "  as  though  he  could  not 
believe  it  when  it  was  true  ;  then  he  fainted,  and 
was  nursed  through  a  long  delirium,  and  was  at 
last  restored  to  health  and  home  and  happiness. 

Our  cabin-boy  managed  to  fish  up  the  lamp,  and 
after  a  little  we  were  illuminated  ;  the  agile  swab 
soon  sponged  out  the  cabin,  and  we  resumed  our 
tedious  watch  for  dawn  and  fairer  weather. 


IN  THE   CRADLE    OF  THE  DEEP  1 5 

Somehow,  my  mind  brooded  over  the  solitary 
wreck  that  was  drifting  about  the  sea.  I  could 
fancy  the  rotten  timbers  of  the  Mouette  clinging 
together  by  a  miracle,  until  the  Ancient  Mariner 
was  taken  away  from  her,  and  then,  when  she  was 
alone  again,  with  nothing  whatever  in  sight  but 
blank  blue  sea  and  blank  blue  sky,  she  lay  for  an 
hour  or  so,  bearded  with  shaggy  sea-moss  and  look- 
ing about  a  thousand  years  old.  Suddenly  it  oc- 
curred to  her  that  her  time  had  come — that  she 
had  outlived  her  usefulness,  and  might  as  well  go  to 
pieces  at  once.  So  she  yawned  in  all  her  timbers, 
and  the  sea  reached  up  over  her,  and  laid  hold  of 
her  masts,  and  seemed  to  be  slowly  drawing  her 
down  into  its  bosom.  There  was  not  an  audible 
sound,  and  scarcely  a  ripple  upon  the  water  ;  but 
when  the  waves  had  climbed  into  the  foretop,  there 
was  a  clamor  of  affrighted  birds,  and  a  myriad  bub- 
bles shot  up  to  the  surface,  where  a  few  waifs  floated 
and  whirled  about  for  a  moment.  It  was  all  that 
marked  the  spot  where  the  Mouette  went  down  to 
her  eternal  rest. 

"Ha,  ha!"  cried  our  skipper,  with  something 
almost  like  a  change  of  expression  on  his  mahogany 
countenance,  "  the  barometer  is  rising  !  "  and  sure 
enough  it  was.  In  two  hours  the  Petrel  acted  like 
a  different  craft  entirely,  and  by  and  by  came  day- 
break, and  after  that  the  sea  went  down,  down, 
down,  into  a  deep,  dead  calm,  when  all  the  elements 
seemed  to  have  gone  to  sleep  after  their  furious 
warfare.  Like  half-drowned  flies  we  crawled  out  of 


1 6  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

the  close,  ill-smelling  cabin  to  dry  ourselves  in  the 
sun  :  there,  on  the  steaming  deck  of  the  schooner, 
we  found  new  life,  and  in  the  hope  that  dawned 
with  it  we  grew  lusty  and  jovial. 

Such  a  flat,  oily  sea  as  it  was  then  !  So  transparent 
that  we  saw  great  fish  swimming  about,  full  fathom 
five  under  us.  A  monstrous  shark  drifted  lazily 
past,  his  dorsal  fin  now  and  then  cutting  the  sur- 
face like  a  knife  and  glistening  like  polished  steel, 
his  brace  of  pilot-fish  darting  hither  and  thither, 
striped  like  little  one-legged  harlequins. 

Flat-headed  gonies  sat  high  on  the  water,  piping 
their  querulous  note  as  they  tugged  at  something 
edible,  a  dozen  of  them  entering  into  the  domestic 
difficulty  :  one  after  another  would  desert  the  cause, 
run  a  little  way  over  the  sea  to  get  a  good  start,  leap 
heavily  into  the  air,  sail  about  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  drop  back  on  the  sea,  feet  foremost,  and 
skate  for  a  yard  or  two,  making  a  white  mark  and  a 
pleasant  sound  as  it  slid  over  the  water. 

The  exquisite  nautilus  floated  past  us,  with  its 
gauzy  sail  set,  looking  like  a  thin  slice  out  of  a  soap- 
bubble  ;  the  strange  anemone  laid  its  pale,  sensi- 
tive petajs  on  the  lips  of  the  waves  and  panted  in 
ecstacy  ;  the  Petrel  rocked  softly,  swinging  her  idle 
canvas  in  the  sun  ;  we  heard  the  click  of  the  anchor- 
chain  in  the  forecastle,  the  blessedest  sea-sound  I  wot 
of ;  a  sailor  sang  while  he  hung  in  the  ratlines  and 
tarred  down  the  salt-stained  shrouds.  The  after- 
noon waned ;  the  man  at  the  wheel  struck  two 
bells — it  was  the  delectable  dog-watch.  Down 


IN  THE   CRADLE   OF  THE  DEEP  I/ 

went  the  swarthy  sun  into  his  tent  of  clouds ;  the 
waves  were  of  amber  ;  the  fervid  sky  was  flushed  ;  it 
looked  as  though  something  splendid  were  about  to 
happen  up  there,  and  that  it  could  hardly  keep  the 
secret  much  longer.  Then  came  the  purplest  twi- 
light ;  and  then  the  sky  blossomed  all  over  with  the 
biggest,  ripest,  goldenest  stars — such  stars  as  hang 
like  fruits  in  sun-fed  orchards  ;  such  stars  as  lay  a 
track  of  fire  in  the  sea ;  such  stars  as  rise  and  set 
over  mountains  and  beyond  low  green  capes,  like 
young  moons,  every  one  of  them ;  and  I  conjured 
up  my  spells  of  savage  enchantment,  my  blessed  isl- 
ands, my  reefs  baptized  with  silver  spray  ;  I  saw 
the  broad  fan-leaves  of  the  banana  droop  in  the  mo- 
tionless air,  and  through  the  tropical  night  the 
palms  aspired  heavenward,  while  I  lay  dreaming  my 
sea-dream  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep. 
* 


CHUMMING  WITH  A  SAVAGE 

PART  I. 
KAN  A- AN  A. 

HERE  was  a  little  brown  rain-cloud,  that  blew 
-L  over  in  about  three  minutes  ;  and  Bolabola's 
thatched  hut  was  dry  as  a  haystack  in  less  than 
half  that  time.  Those  tropical  sprays  are  not  much, 
anyhow  ;  so  I  lounged  down  into  the  banana-patch, 
for  I  thought  I  saw  something  white  there,  some- 
thing white  and  fluttering,  moving  about.  I  knew 
pretty  well  what  it  was,  and  didn't  go  after  it  on  an 
uncertainty. 

The  Doctor  looked  savage.  Whenever  he  slung 
those  saddle-bags  over  his  left  shoulder,  and  swung 
his  right  arm  clean  out  from  his  body,  like  the  reg- 
ulator of  a  steam-engine,  you  might  know  that  his 
steam  was  pretty  well  up.  I  turned  to  look  back, 
as  he  was  strapping  up  his  beast  of  burden  till  the 
poor  animal's  body  was  positively  waspish ;  then  he 
climbed  into  his  saddle,  and  sullenly  plunged  down 
the  trail  toward  the  precipice,  and  never  said  "  Good- 
by,"  or  "  God  bless  you,"  or  any  of  those  harmless 
tags  that  come  in  so  well  when  you  don't  know  how 
to  cut  off  your  last  words. 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  19 

I  solemnly  declare,  and  this  without  malice,  the 
Doctor  was  perfectly  savage. 

Now,  do  you  know  what  demoralized  that  Doctor  ? 
how  we  came  to  a  misunderstanding  ?  or  why  we 
parted  company  ?  It  was  simply  because  here  was 
a  glorious  valley,  inhabited  by  a  mild,  half  civilized 
people,  who  seemed  to  love  me  at  first  sight.  I  don't 
believe  I  disliked  them,  either.  Well !  they  asked  me 
to  stop  with  them,  and  I  felt  just  like  it.  I  wanted 
to  stop  and  be  natural ;  but  the  Doctor  thought 
otherwise  of  my  intentions  ;  and  that  was  the  origin 
of  the  row. 

The  next  thing  I  knew,  the  Doctor  had  got  up  the 
great  precipice,  and  I  was  quite  alone  with  two  hun- 
dred dusky  fellows,  only  two  of  whom  could  speak  a 
syllable  of  English,  and  I  the  sole  representative 
of  the  superior  white  within  twenty  miles.  Alone 
with  cannibals — perhaps  they  were  cannibals.  They 
had  magnificent  teeth,  at  any  rate,  and  could  bite 
through  an  inch  and  a  half  sugar-cane,  and  not 
break  a  jaw. 

For  the  first  time  that  summer  I  began  to  mor- 
alize a  little.  Was  it  best  to  have  kicked  against 
the  Doctor's  judgment  ?  Perhaps  not !  But  It  is 
best  to  be  careful  how  you  begin  to  moralize  too 
early  ;  you  deprive  yourself  of  a  great  deal  of  fun  in 
that  way.  If  you  want  to  do  anything  particularly, 
I  should  advise  you  to  do  it,  and  then  be  sufficiently 
sorry  to  make  it  all  square. 

"I'm  not  so  sure  that  I  was  wrong,  after  all. 
Fate,  or  the  Doctor,  or  something  else,  brought  me 


2O  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

first  to  this  loveliest  of  valleys,  so  shut  out  from 
everything  but  itself  that  there  were  no  temptations 
which  might  not  be  satisfied.  Well !  here,  as  I  was 
looking  about  at  the  singular  loveliness  of  the  place— 
you  know  this  was  my  first  glimpse  of  its  abrupt 
walls,  hung  with  tapestries  of  fern  and  clambering 
convolvulus  ;  at  one  end  two  exquisite  waterfalls, 
rivalling  one  another  in  whiteness  and  airiness,  at 
the  other  the  sea,  the  real  South  Sea,  breaking  and 
foaming  over  a  genuine  reef,  and  even  rippling  the 
placid  current  of  the  river  that  slipped  quietly  down 
to  its  embracing  tide  from  the  deep  basins  at  these 
waterfalls — right  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  before  I 
had  been  ten  minutes  in  the  valley,  I  saw  a  straw 
hat,  bound  with  wreaths  of  fern  and  maile  ;  under 
it  a  snow-white  garment,  rather  short  all  around, 
low  in  the  neck,  and  with  no  sleeves  whatever. 

There  was  no  sex  to  that  garment ;  it  was  the 
spontaneous  offspring  of  a  scant  material  and  a  large 
necessity.  I'd  seen  plenty  of  that  sort  of  thing,  but 
never  upon  a  model  like  this,  so  entirely  tropical — 
almost  Oriental.  As  this  singular  phenomenon 
made  directly  for  me,  and,  having  come  within 
reach,  there  stopped  and  stayed,  I  asked  its  name, 
using  one  of  my  seven  stock  phrases  for  the  pur- 
pose ;  I  found  it  was  called  Kana-ana.  Down  it 
went  into  my  note-book  ;  for  I  knew  I  was  to  have 
an  experience  with  this  young  scion  of  a  race  of 
chiefs.  Sure  enough,  I  have  had  it.  He  continued 
to  regard  me  steadily,  without  embarrassment.  He 
seated  himself  before  me ;  I  felt  myself  at  the 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  21 

mercy  of  one  whose  calm  analysis  was  questioning 
every  motive  of  my  soul.  This  sage  inquirer  was, 
perhaps,  sixteen  years  of  age.  His  eye  was  so 
earnest  and  so  honest,  I  could  return  his  look.  I 
saw  a  round,  full,  rather  girlish  face  ;  lips  ripe  and 
expressive,  not  quite  so  sensual  as  those  of  most  of 
his  race  ;  not  a  bad  nose,  by  any  means  ;  eyes  per- 
fectly glorious — regular  almonds — with  the  mythical 
lashes  "  that  sweep,"  etc.,  etc.  The  smile  which 
presently  transfigured  his  face  was  of  the  nature 
that  flatters  you  into  submission  against  your  will 

Having  weighed  me  in  his  balance — and  you  may 
i  be  sure  his  instincts  didn't  cheat  him  ;  they  don't 
do  that  sort  of  thing — he  placed  his  two  hands  on 
my  two  knees,  and  declared,  "  I  was  his  best  friend, 
as  he  was  mine  ;  I  must  come  at  once  to  his  house, 
and  there  live  always  with  him."  What  could  I  do 
but  go?  He  pointed  me  to  his  lodge  across  the 
river,  saying,  "  There  was  his  home  and  mine."  By 
this  time,  my  native  without  a  master  was  quite  ex- 
hausted. I  wonder  what  would  have  happened  if 
some  one  hadn't  come  to  my  rescue,  just  at  that  mo- 
ment of  trial,  with  a  fresh  vocabulary  ?  As  it  was, 
we  settled  the  matter  at  once.  This  was  our  little 
plan — an  entirely  private  arrangement  between  Ka- 
na-ana  and  myself  :  I  was  to  leave  with  the  Doctor 
in  an  hour ;  but,  at  the  expiration  of  a  week  we 
should  both  return  hither  ;  then  I  would  stop  with 
him,  and  the  Doctor  could  go  his  way. 

There  was  an  immense  amount  of  secrecy,  and 
many  vows,  and  I  was  almost  crying,  when  the  Doc- 


22  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

tor  hurried  me  up  that  terrible  precipice,  and  we 
lost  sight  of  the  beautiful  valley.  Kana-ana  swore 
he  would  watch  continually  for  my  return,  and  I 
vowed  I'd  hurry  back  ;  and  so  we  parted.  Looking 
down  from  the  heights,  I  thought  I  could  distin- 
guish his  white  garment ;  at  any  rate,  I  knew  the 
little  fellow  was  somewhere  about,  feeling  as  miser- 
ably as  I  felt — and  nobody  has  any  business  to  feel 
worse.  How  many  times  I  thought  of  him  through 
the  week !  I  was  always  wondering  if  he  still 
thought  of  me.  I  had  found  those  natives  to  be  im- 
pulsive, demonstrative,  and,  I  feared,  inconstant. 
Yet  why  should  he  forget  me,  having  so  little  to  re- 
member in  his  idle  life,  while  I  could  still  think  of 
him,  and  put  aside  a  hundred  pleasant  memories  for 
his  sake?  The  whole  island  was  a  delight  to  me.  I 
often  wondered  if  I  should  ever  again  behold  such  a 
series  of  valleys,  hills,  and  highlands  in  so  small  a 
compass.  That  land  is  a  world  in  miniature,  the 
dearest  spot  of  which,  to  me,  was  that  secluded  val- 
ley ;  for  there  was  a  young  soul  watching  for  my  re- 
turn. 

That  was  rather  a  slow  week  for  me,  but  it  ended 
finally  ;  and  just  at  sunset,  on  the  day  appointed, 
the  Doctor  and  I  found  ourselves  back  on  the  edge 
of  the  valley.  I  looked  all  up  and  down  its  green 
expanse,  regarding  every  living  creature,  in  the  hope 
of  discovering  Kana-ana  in  the  attitude  of  the 
watcher.  I  let  the  Doctor  ride  ahead  of  me  on  the 
trail  to  Bolabola's  hut,  and  it  was  quite  in  the  twi- 
light when  I  heard  the  approach  of  a  swift  horse^ 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  2$ 

man.  I  turned,  and  at  that  moment  there  was  a 
collision  of  two  constitutions  that  were  just  fitted 
for  one  another ;  and  all  the  doubts  and  apprehen- 
sions of  the  week  just  over  were  indignantly  dis- 
missed, for  Kana-ana  and  I  were  one  and  insepar- 
able, which  was  perfectly  satisfactory  to  both  par- 
ties ! 

The  plot,  which  had  been  thickening  all  the  week, 
culminated  then,  much  to  the  disgust  of  the  Doctor, 
who  had  kept  his  watchful  eye  upon  me  all  these 
days — to  my  advantage,  as  he  supposed.  There 
was  no  disguising  our  project  any  longer,  so  I  out 
with  it  as  mildly  as  possible.  "  There  was  a  dear 
fellow  here,"  I  said,  "  who  loveiX  me,  and  wanted  me 
to  live  with  him  ;  all  his  people  wanted  me  to  stop, 
also  ;  his  mother  and  his  grandmother  had  specially 
desired  it.  They  didn't  care  for  money ;  they  had 
much  love  for  me,  and  therefore  implored  me  to  stay 
a  little.  Then  the  valley  was  most  beautiful ;  I  was 
tired  ;  after  our  hard  riding,  I  needed  rest ;  his 
mother  and  his  grandmother  assured  me  that  I 
needed  rest.  Now,  why  not  let  me  rest  here 
awhile  ?  " 

The  Doctor  looked  very  grave.  I  knew  that  he 
misunderstood — placed  a  wrong  interpretation  upon 
my  motives ;  the  worse  for  him,  I  say.  He  tried 
to  talk  me  over  to  the  paths  of  virtue  and  pro- 
priety ;  but  I  wouldn't  be  talked  over.  Then  the 
final  blast  was  blown  ;  war  was  declared  at  once. 
The  Doctor  never  spoke  again,  but  to  abuse  me  ; 
and  off  he  rode  in  high  dudgeon,  and  the  sun  kept 


24  SOUTH-SEA    WYLS 

going  down  on  his  wrath.  Thereupon  I  renounced 
all  the  follies  of  this  world,  actually  hating  civiliza- 
tion, and  feeling  entirely  above  the  formalities  of 
society.  I  resolved  on  the  spot  to  be  a  barbarian, 
and,  perhaps,  dwell  forever  and  ever  in  this  secluded 
spot.  And  here  I  am  back  to  the  beginning  of  this 
story,  just  after  the  shower  at  Bolabola's  hut,  as  the 
Doctor  rode  off  alone  and  in  anger. 

That  resolution  was  considerable  for  me  to  make. 
I  found,  by  the  time  the  Doctor  was  out  of  sight 
and  I  was  quite  alone,  with  the  natives  regarding 
me  so  curiously,  that  I  was  very  tired  indeed.  So 
Kana-ana  brought  up  his  horse,  got  me  on  to  it  in 
some  way  or  other,  and  mounted  behind  me  to 
pilot  the  animal  and  sustain  me  in  my  first  bare- 
back act.  Over  the  sand  we  went,  and  through  the 
river  to  his  hut,  where  I  was  taken  in,  fed,  and 
petted  in  every  possible  way,  and  finally  put  to  bed, 
where  Kana-ana  monopolized  me,  growling  in  true 
savage  fashion  if  any  one  came  near  me.  I  didn't 
sleep  much,  after  all.  I  think  I  must  have  been  ex- 
cited. I  thought  how  strangely  I  was  situated  : 
alone  in  a  wilderness,  among  barbarians ;  my 
bosom  friend,  who  was  hugging  me  like  a  young 
bear,  not  able  to  speak  one  syllable  of  English,  and 
I  very  shaky  on  a  few  bad  phrases  in  his  tongue. 
We  two  lay  upon  an  enormous  old-fashioned  bed 
with  high  posts — very  high  they  seemed  to  me  in 
the  dim  rushlight.  The  natives  always  burn  a  small 
light  after  dark  ;  some  superstition  or  other  prompts 
it  The  bed,  well  stocked  with  pillows  or  cushions 


CHUMMING   WITH  A   SAVAGE  2$ 

of  various  sizes,  covered  with  bright-colored  chintz, 
was  hung  about  with  numerous  shawls,  so  that  I 
might  be  dreadfully  modest  behind  them.  It  was 
quite  a  grand  affair,  gotten  up  expressly  for  my 
benefit.  The  rest  of  the  house — all  in  one  room, 
as  usual — was  covered  with  mats,  on  which  various 
recumbent  forms  and  several  individual  snores  be- 
trayed the  proximity  of  Kana-ana's  relatives.  How 
queer  the  whole  atmosphere  of  the  place  was  !  The 
heavy  beams  of  the  house  were  of  some  rare  wood, 
which,  being  polished,  looked  like  colossal  sticks  of 
peanut  candy.  Slender  canes  were  bound  across 
this  framework,  and  the  soft,  dried  grass  of  the 
meadows  was  braided  over  it — all  completing  our 
tenement,  and  making  it  as  fresh  and  sweet  as  new- 
mown  hay. 

The  natives  have  a  passion  for  perfumes.  Little 
bunches  of  sweet-smelling  herbs  hung  in  the  peak 
of  the  roof,  and  wreaths  of  fragrant  berries  were 
strung  in  various  parts  of  the  house.  I  found  our 
bedposts  festooned  with  them  in  the  morning.  O, 
that  bed  !  It  might  have  come  from  England  in  the 
Elizabethan  era  and  been  wrecked  off  the  coast; 
hence  the  mystery  of  its  presence.  It  was  big 
enough  for  a  Mormon.  There  was  a  little  opening 
in  the  room  opposite  our  bed  ;  you  might  call  it  a 
window,  I  suppose.  The  sun,  shining  through  it 
made  our  tent  of  shawls  perfectly  gorgeous  in  crim- 
son light,  barred  and  starred  with  gold.  I  lifted 
our  bed-curtain,  and  watched  the  rocks  through 
this  window — the  shining  rocks,  with  the  sea  leap- 


26  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

ing  above  them  in  the  sun.  There  were  cocoa* 
palms  so  slender  ttiey  seemed  to  cast  no  shadow, 
while  their  fringed  leaves  glistened  like  frost-work 
as  the  sun  glanced  over,  them.  A  bit  of  cliff,  also, 
remote  and  misty,  running  far  into  the  sea,  was 
just  visible  from  my  pyramid  of  pillows.  I  won- 
dered what  more  I  could  ask  for  to  delight  the  eye. 
Kana-ana  was  still  asleep,  but  he  never  let  loose  his 
hold  on  me,  as  though  he  feared  his  pale-faced 
friend  would  fade  away  from  him.  He  lay  close  by 
me.  His  sleek  figure,  supple  and  graceful  in  repose, 
was  the  embodiment  of  free,  untrammelled  youth. 
You  who  are  brought  up  under  cover  know  nothing 
of  its  luxuriousness.  How  I  longed  to  take  him 
over  the  sea  with  me,  and  show  him  something  of 
life  as  we  find  it.  Thinking  upon  it,  I  dropped  off 
into  one  of  those  delicious  morning  naps.  I  awoke 
again  presently  ;  my  companion-in-arms  was  the  oc- 
casion this  time.  He  had  awakened,  stolen  softly 
away,  resumed  his  single  garment — said  garment 
and  all  others  he  considered  superfluous  after  dark 
— and  had  prepared  for  me,  with  his  own  hands,  a 
breakfast  which  he  now  declared  to  me,  in  violent 
and  suggestive  pantomime,  was  all  ready  to  be 
eaten.  It  was  not  a  bad  bill  of  fare — fresh  fish, 
taro,  poe,  and  goat's  milk.  I  ate  as  well  as  I  could, 
under  the  circumstances.  I  found  that  Robinson 
Crusoe  must  have  had  some  tedious  rehearsals  be- 
fore he  acquired  that  perfect  resignation  to  Provi- 
dence which  delights  us  in  book  form.  There  was 
a  veritable  and  most  unexpected  tablecloth  for  me 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  2/ 

alone.  I  do  not  presume  to  question  the  nature  of 
its  miraculous  appearance.  Dishes  there  were — 
dishes,  if  you're  not  particular  as  to  shape  or  com- 
pleteness ;  forks  with  a  prong  or  two — a  bent  and 
abbreviated  prong  or  two ;  knives  that  had  sur- 
vived their  handles  ;  and  one  solitary  spoon.  All 
these  were  tributes  of  the  too  generous  people,  who, 
for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  were  at  the  incon- 
venience of  entertaining  a  distinguished  stranger. 
Hence  this  reckless  display  of  tableware.  I  ate  as 
well  as  I  could,  but  surely  not  enough  to  satisfy  my 
crony  ;  for,  when  I  had  finished  eating,  he  sat  about 
two  hours  in  deep  and  depressing  silence,  at  the  ex- 
piration of  which  time  he  suddenly  darted  off  on  his 
bareback  steed  and  was  gone  till  dark,  when  he  re- 
turned with  a  fat  mutton  slung  over  his  animal. 
Now,  mutton  doesn't  grow  wild  thereabout,  neither 
were  his  relatives  shepherds  ;  consequently,  in  eat- 
ing, I  asked  no  questions  for  conscience'  sake. 

The  series  of  entertainments  offered  me  were  such 
as  the  little  valley  had  not  known  for  years  :  canoe- 
'  rides  up  and  down  the  winding  stream  ;  bathings 
in  the  sea  and  in  the  river,  and  in  every  possible 
bit  of  water,  at  all  possible  hours  ;  expeditions  into 
the  recesses  of  the  mountains,  to  the  waterfalls  that 
plunged  into  cool  basins  of  fern  and  cresses,  and  to 
the  orange-grove  through  acres  and  acres  of  guava 
orchards ;  some  climbings  up  the  precipices  ;  goat 
hunting,  once  or  twice,  as  far  as  a  solitary  cavern, 
said  to  be  haunted — these  tramps  always  by  day- 
light ;  then  a  new  course  of  bathings  and  sailings, 


28  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

interspersed  with  monotonous  singing  and  occasion- 
al smokes  under  the  eaves  of  the  hut  at  evening. 

If  it  is  a  question  how  long  a  man  may  withstand 
the  seductions  of  nature,  and  the  consolations  and 
conveniences  of  the  state  of  nature,  I  have  solved  it 
in  one  case  ;  for  I  was  as  natural  as  possible  in 
about  three  days. 

I  wonder  if  I  was  growing  to  feel  more  at  home, 
or  more  hungry,  that  I  found  an  appetite  at  last 
equal  to  any  table  that  was  offered  me !  Chicken 
was  added  to  my  already  bountiful  rations,  nicely 
cooked  by  being  swathed  in  a  broad,  succulent  leaf, 
and  roasted  or  steeped  in  hot  ashes.  I  ate  it  with 
my  fingers,  using  the  leaf  for  a  platter. 

Almost  every  day  something  new  was  offered  at 
the  door  for  my  edification.  Now,  a  net  full  of 
large  guavas  or  mangoes,  or  a  sack  of  leaves  crammed 
with  most  delicious  oranges  from  the  mountains, 
that  seemed  to  have  absorbed  the  very  dew  of 
heaven,  they  were  so  fresh  and  sweet.  Immense 
lemons  perfumed  the  house,  waiting  to  make  me  a 
capital  drink.  Those  superb  citrons,  with  their 
rough,  golden  crusts,  refreshed  me.  Cocoanuts 
were  heaped  at  the  door ;  and  yams,  grown  miles 
away,  were  sent  for,  so  that  I  might  be  satisfied. 
All  these  additions  to  my  table  were  the  result  of 
long  and  vigorous  arguments  between  the  respective 
heads  of  the  house.  I  detected  trouble  and  anxiety 
in  their  expressive  faces.  I  picked  out  a  word,  here 
and  there,  which  betrayed  their  secret  sorrow.  No 
assertions,  no  remonstrances  on  my  part,  had  the 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  2$ 

slightest  effect  upon  the  poor  souls,  who  believed  I 
was  starving.  Eat  I  must,  at  all  hours  and  in  all 
places  ;  and  eat,  moreover,  before  they  would  touch 
a  mouthful.  So  Nature  teaches  her  children  a  hos- 
pitality which  all  the  arts  of  the  capital  cannot  af- 
fect. 

I  wonder  what  it  was  that  finally  made  me  restless 
and  eager  to  see  new  faces  !  Perhaps  my  unhappy 
disposition,  that  urged  me  thither,  and  then  lured 
me  back  to  the  pride  of  life  and  the  glory  of  the 
world.  Certain  I  am  that  Kana-ana  never  wearied 
me  with  his  attentions,  though  they  were  incessant. 
Day  and  night  he  was  by  me.  When  he  was  silent, 
I  knew  he  was  conceiving  some  surprise  in  the  shape 
of  a  new  fruit,  or  a  new  view  to  beguile  me.  I  was, 
indeed,  beguiled  ;  I  was  growing  to  like  the  little 
heathen  altogether  too  well.  What  should  I  do 
when  I  was  at  last  compelled  to  return  out  of  my  se- 
clusion, and  find  no  soul  so  faithful  and  loving  in  all 
the  earth  beside  ?  Day  by  day  this  thought  grew 
upon  me,  and  with  it  I  realized  the  necessity  of  a 
speedy  departure. 

There  were  those  in  the  world  I  could  still  re- 
member with  that  exquisitely  painful  pleasure  that 
is  the  secret  of  true  love.  Those  still  voices  seemed 
incessantly  calling  me,  and  something  in  my  heart 
answered  them  of  its  own  accord.  How  strangely 
idle  the  days  had  grown !  We  used  to  lie  by  the 
hour — Kana-ana  and  I — watching  a  strip  of  sand  on 
which  a  wild  poppy  was  nodding  in  the  wind.  This 
poppy  seemed  to  me  typical  of  their  life  in  the  quiet 


30  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

valley.  Living  only  to  occupy  so  much  space  in  the 
universe,  it  buds,  blossoms,  goes  to  seed,  dies,  and 
is  forgotten. 

These  natives  do  not  even  distinguish  the  memory 
of  their  great  dead,  if  they  ever  had  any.  It  was 
the  legend  of  some  mythical  god  that  Kana-ana  told 
me,  and  of  which  I  could  not  understand  a  twentieth 
part ;  a  god  whose  triumphs  were  achieved  in  an  age 
beyond  the  comprehension  of  the  very  people  who 
are  delivering  its  story,  by  word  of  mouth,  from 
generation  to  generation.  Watching  the  sea  was  a 
great  source  of  amusement  with  us.  I  discovered  in 
our  long  watches  that  there  is  a  very  complicated 
and  magnificent  rhythm  in  its  solemn  song.  This 
wave  that  breaks  upon  the  shore  is  the  heaviest  of  a 
series  that  preceded  it ;  and  these  are  greater  and 
less,  alternately,  every  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes. 
Over  this  dual  impulse  the  tides  prevail,  while 
through  the  year  there  is  a  variation  in  their  rise 
and  fall.  What  an  intricate  and  wonderful  mechan- 
ism regulates  and  repairs  all  this  ! 

There  was  an  entertainment  in  watching  a  par- 
ticular cliff,  in  a  peculiar  light,  at  a  certain  hour,  and 
finding  soon  enough  that  change  visited  even  that 
hidden  quarter  of  the  globe.  The  exquisite  perfec- 
tion of  this  moment,  for  instance,  is  not  again  re- 
peated on  to-morrow,  or  the  day  after,  but  in  its 
stead  appears  some  new  tint  or  picture,  which,  per- 
haps, does  not  satisfy  like  this.  That  was  the  most 
distressing  disappointment  that  came  upon  us  there. 
I  used  to  spend  half  an  hour  in  idly  observing  the 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  31 

splendid  curtains  of  our  bed  swing  in  the  light  air 
from  the  sea  ;  and  I  have  speculated  for  days  upon 
the  probable  destiny  awaiting  one  of  those  superb 
spiders,  with  a  tremendous  stomach  and  a  striped 
waistcoat,  looking  a  century  old,  as  he  clung  tena- 
ciously to  the  fringes  of  our  canopy. 

We  had  fitful  spells  of  conversation  upon  some 
trivial  theme,  after  long  intervals  of  intense  silence. 
We  began  to  develop  symptoms  of  imbecility. 
There  was  laughter  at  the  least  occurrence,  though 
quite  barren  of  humor  ;  also,  eating  and  drinking  to 
pass  the  time  ;  bathing  to  make  one's  self  cool,  after 
the  heat  and  drowsiness  of  the  day.  So  life  flowed 
out  in  an  unruffled  current,  and  so  the  prodigal 
lived  riotously  and  wasted  his  substance.  There 
came  a  day  when  we  promised  ourselves  an  actual 
occurrence  in  our  Crusoe  life.  Some  one  had  seen 
a  floating  object  far  out  at  sea.  It  might  be  a  boat 
adrift ;  and,  in  truth,  it  looked  very  like  a  boat. 
Two  or  three  canoes  darted  off  through  the  surf  to 
the  rescue,  while  we  gathered  on  the  rocks,  watching 
and  ruminating.  It  was  long  before  the  rescuers  re- 
turned, and  then  they  came  empty-handed.  It  was 
only  a  log  after  all,  drifted,  probably,  from  America. 
We  talked  it  all  over,  there  by  the  shore,  and  went 
home  to  renew  the  subject ;  it  lasted  us  a  week  or 
more,  and  we  kept  harping  upon  it  till  that  log — 
drifting  slowly,  O  how  slowly  !  from  the  far  main- 
land to  our  island — seemed  almost  to  overpower  me 
with  a  sense  of  the  unutterable  loneliness  of  its  voy- 
age. I  used  to  lie  and  think  about  it,  and  get  very 


32  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

solemn,  indeed ;  then  K£na-ana  would  think  of  some 
fresh  appetizer  or  other,  and  try  to  make  me  merry 
with  good  feeling.  Again  and  again  he  would  come 
with  a  delicious  banana  to  the  bed  where  I  was  ly- 
ing, and  insist  upon  my  gorging  myself,  when  I  had 
but  barely  recovered  from  a  late  orgie  of  fruit,  flesh, 
or  fowl.  He  would  mesmerize  me  into  a  most  re- 
freshing sleep  with  a  prolonged  and  pleasing  ma- 
nipulation. It  was  a  reminiscence  of  the  baths  of 
Stamboul  not  to  be  withstood.  From  this  sleep  I 
would  presently  be  awakened  by  Kana-ana's  per- 
formance upon  a  rude  sort  of  harp,  that  gave  out  a 
weird  and  eccentric  music.  The  mouth  being  ap- 
plied to  the  instrument,  words  were  pronounced  in 
a  guttural  voice,  while  the  fingers  twanged  the 
strings  in  measure.  It  was  a  flow  of  monotones, 
shaped  into  legends  and  lyrics.  I  liked  it  amaz- 
ingly ;  all  the  better,  perhaps,  that  it  was  as  good  as 
Greek  to  me,  for  I  understood  it  as  little  as  I  under- 
stood the  strange  and  persuasive  silence  of  that  be- 
loved place,  which  seemed  slowly  but  surely  weaving 
a  spell  of  enchantment  about  me.  I  resolved  to  de- 
sert peremptorily,  and  managed  to  hire  a  canoe  and 
a  couple  of  natives  to  cross  the  channel  with  me. 
There  were  other  reasons  for  this  prompt  action. 

Hour  by  hour  I  was  beginning  to  realize  one  of 
the  inevitable  results  of  time.  My  boots  were  giv- 
ing out ;  their  best  sides  were  the  uppers,  and  their 
soles  had  about  left  them.  As  I  walked,  I  could  no 
longer  disguise  this  pitiful  fact.  It  was  getting 
hard  on  me,  especially  in  the  gravel.  Yet,  regu- 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  33 

larly  each  morning,  my  pieces  of  boot  were  carefully 
oiled,  then  rubbed,  or  petted,  or  coaxed  into  some 
sort  of  a  polish,  which  was  a  labor  of  love.  O  Kana- 
ana  !  how  could  you  wring  my  soul  with  those 
touching  offices  of  friendship ! — those  kindnesses 
unfailing,  unsurpassed  ! 

Having  resolved  to  sail  early  in  the  morning,  be- 
fore the  drowsy  citizens  of  the  valley  had  fairly 
shaken  the  dew  out  of  their  forelocks,  all  that  day 
— my  last  with  Kana-ana — I  breathed  about  me  silent 
benedictions  and  farewells.  I  could  not  begin  to  do 
enough  for  Kana-ana,  who  was  more  than  ever  de- 
voted to  me.  He  almost  seemed  to  suspect  our 
sudden  separation,  for  he  clung  to  me  with  a  sort  of 
subdued  desperation.  That  was  the  day  he  took 
from  his  head  his  hat — a  very  neat  one,  plaited  by 
his  mother — insisting  that  I  should  wear  it  (mine 
was  quite  in  tatters),  while  he  went  bareheaded  in 
the  sun.  That  hat  hangs  in  my  room  now,  the  only 
tangible  relic  of  my  prodigal  days.  My  plan  was  to 
steal  off  at  dawn,  while  he  slept ;  to  awaken  my  na- 
tive crew,  and  escape  to  sea  before  my  absence  was 
detected.  I  dared  not  trust  a  parting  with  him  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  the  valley.  Well,  I  managed  to 
wake  and  rouse  my  sailor  boys.  To  tell  the  truth, 
I  didn't  sleep  a  wink  that  night.  We  launched  the 
canoe,  entered,  put  off,  and  had  safely  mounted  the 
second  big  roller  just  as  it  broke  under  us  with  ter- 
rific power,  when  I  heard  a  shrill  cry  above  the  roar 
of  the  waters.  I  knew  the  voice  and  its  import. 

There  was  Kana-ana  rushing  madly  toward  us ;  he 
3 


34  SOUTH  SEA   IDYLS 

had  discovered  all,  and  couldn't  even  wait  for  that 
white  garment,  but  ran  after  us  like  one  gone  daft, 
and  plunged  into  the  cold  sea,  calling  my  name 
over  and  over  as  he  fought  the  breakers.  I  urged 
the  natives  forward.  I  knew  if  he  overtook  us  I 
should  never  be  able  to  escape  again.  We  fairly 
flew  over  the  water.  I  saw  him  rise  and  fall  with 
the  swell,  looking  like  a  seal ;  for  it  was  his  second 
nature,  this  surf-swimming.  I  believe  in  my  heart  I 
wished  the  paddles  would  break  or  the  canoe  split 
on  the  reef,  though  all  the  time  I  was  urging  the 
rascals  forward  ;  and  they,  like  stupids,  took  me  at 
my  word.  They  couldn't  break  a  paddle,  or  get  on 
the  reef,  or  have  any  sort  of  an  accident.  Presently 
we  rounded  the  headland — the  same  hazy  point  I 
used  to  watch  from  the  grass  house,  through  the 
little  window,  of  a  sunshiny  morning.  There  we 
lost  sight  of  the  valley  and  the  grass  house,  and 
everything  that  was  associated  with  the  past — but 
that  was  nothing.  We  lost  sight  of  the  little  sea-god, 
Kana-ana,  shaking  the  spray  from  his  forehead  like 
a  porpoise  ;  and  this  was  all  in  all.  I  didn't  care 
for  anything  else  after  that,  or  anybody  else,  either. 
I  went  straight  home,  and  got  civilized  again,  or 
partly  so,  at  least.  I've  never  seen  the  Doctor  since, 
and  never  want  to.  He  had  no  business  to  take  me 
there  or  leave  me  there.  I  couldn't  make  up  my 
mind  to  stay  ;  yet  I'm  always  dying  to  go  back  again. 
So  I  grew  tired  over  my  husks.  I  arose  and  went 
unto  my  father.  I  wanted  to  finish  up  the  Prodigal 
business.  I  ran  and  fell  upon  his  neck  and  kissed 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE.  3$ 

him,  and  said  unto  him,  "Father,  if  I  have  sinned 
against  Heaven  and  in  thy  sight,  I'm  afraid  I  don't 
care  much.  Don't  kill  anything.  I  don't  want  any 
calf.  Take  back  the  ring,  I  don't  deserve  it ;  for  I'd 
give  more  this  minute  to  see  that  dear  little  vel- 
vet-skinned, coffee-colored  Kana-ana  than  anything 
else  in  the  wide  world — because  he  hates  business, 
and  so  do  L  He's  a  regular  brick,  father,  molded 
of  the  purest  clay,  and  baked  in  God's  sunshine. 
He's  about  half  sunshine  himself ;  and,  above  all  oth- 
ers, and  more  than  any  one  else  ever  can,  he  loved 
your  Prodigal" 


PART  IT. 
How  I  CONVERTED  M*  CANNIBAL. 

WHEN  people  began  asking  me  queer  questions 
about  my  chum  Kana-ana,  some  of  them  even 
hinting  that  "  he  might  possibly  have  been  a  girl 
all  the  time,"  I  resolved  to  send  down  for  him, 
and  settle  the  matter  at  once.  I  knew  he  was  not  a 
girl,  and  I  thought  I  should  like  to  show  him  some 
American  hospitality,  and  perhaps  convert  him  be- 
fore I  sent  him  back  again. 

I  could  teach  him  to  dress,  you  know  ;  to  say  a 
very  good  thing  to  your  face,  and  a  very  bad  one  at 
your  back  ;  to  sleep  well  in  church,  and  rejoice  duly 
when  the  preacher  had  got  at  last  to  the  "  Amen." 
I  might  do  all  this  for  his  soul's  sake  ;  but  I  wanted 
more  to  see  how  the  little  fellow  was  getting  on.  I 
missed  him  so  terribly — his  honest  way  of  showing 
likes  and  dislikes  ;  his  confidence  in  his  intuitions 
and  fidelity  to  his  friends ;  and  those  quaint  man- 
ners of  his,  so  different  from  anything  in  vogue  this 
side  of  the  waters. 

That  is  what  I  remarked  when  I  got  home  again, 
and  found  myself  growing  as  practical  and  prosy  as 
ever.  I  awoke  no  kindred  chord  in  the  family  bosom. 
On  the  contrary,  they  all  said,  "  It  was  no  use  to 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  37 

think  of  it :  no  good  could  come  out  of  Nazareth." 
The  idea  of  a  heathen  and  his  abominable  idolatry 
being  countenanced  in  the  sanctity  of  a  Christian 
home  was  too  dreadful  for  anything.  But  I  believed 
some  good  might  come  out  of  Nazareth,  and  I 
believed  that,  when  it  did  come,  it  was  the  genuine 
article,  worth  hunting  for,  surely.  I  thought  it  all 
over  soberly,  finally  resolving  to  do  a  little  mission- 
ary work  on  my  own  account.  So  I  wrote  to  the 
Colonel  of  the  Royal  Guards,  who  knows  everybody 
and  has  immense  influence  everywhere,  begging  him 
to  catch  Kana-ana,  when  his  folks  weren't  looking, 
and  send  him  to  my  address,  marked  C.  O.  D.,  for  I 
was  just  dying  to  see  him.  That  was  how  I  trapped 
my  little  heathen  and  began  to  be  a  missionary,  all 
by  myself. 

I  informed  the  Colonel  it  was  a  case  of  life  and 
death,  and  he  seemed  to  realize  it,  for  he  managed 
to  get  Kana-ana  away  from  his  distressed  relatives 
(their  name  is  legion,  and  they  live  all  over  the 
island),  fit  him  out  in  real  clothing — the  poor  little 
wretch  had  to  be  dressed,  you  know  ;  we  all  do  it  in 
this  country — then  he  packed  him  up  and  shipped 

him,  care  of  the  captain  of  the  bark  S .     When 

he  arrived  I  took  him  right  to  my  room  and  began 
my  missionary  work.  I  tried  to  make  all  the  people 
love  him,  but  I'm  afraid  they  found  it  hard  work, 
He  wasn't  half  so  interesting  up  here  anyhow !  I 
seemed  to  have  been  regarding  him  through  chro- 
matic glasses,  which  glasses  being  suddenly  re- 
moved, I  found  a  little  dark-skinned  savage,  whose 


38  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

clothes  fitted  him  horribly  and  appeared  to  have  no 
business  there.  Boots  about  twice  too  long,  the 
toes  being  heavily  charged  with  wadding  ;  in  fact, 
he  looked  perfectly  miserable,  and  I've  no  doubt  he 
felt  so.  How  he  had  been  studying  English  on  the 
voyage  up !  He  wanted  to  be  a  great  linguist,  and 
had  begun  in  good  earnest.  He  said  "  good- 
mornin'"  as  boldly  as  possible  about  seven  P.M., 
and  invariably  spoke  of  the  women  of  America  as 
"him."  He  had  an  insane  desire  to  spell,  and 
started  spelling-matches  with  everybody,  at  the 
most  inappropriate  hours  and  inconvenient  places. 
He  invariably  spelled  God,  d-o-g  ;  when  duly  cor- 
rected— thus,  G-o-d,  he  would  triumphantly  shout, 
dog.  He  jumped  at  these  irreverent  conclusions 
about  twenty  times  a  day. 

What  an  experience  I  had,  educating  my  little 
savage!  Walking  him  in  the  street  by  the  hour; 
answering  questions  on  all  possible  topics ;  spelling 
up  and  down  the  blocks  ;  spelling  from  the  centre 
of  the  city  to  the  suburbs  and  back  again,  and 
around  it ;  spelling  one  another  at  spelling — two 
latter-day  peripatetics  on  dress  parade,  passing  to 
and  fro  in  high  and  serene  strata  of  philosophy, 
alike  unconscious  of  the  rudely  gazing  and  insolent 
citizens,  or  the  tedious  calls  of  labor.  A  spell  was 
over  us  ;  we  ran  into  all  sorts  of  people,  and  trod  on 
many  a  corn,  loafing  about  in  this  way.  Some  of  the 
victims  objected  in  harsh  and  sinful  language.  I 
found  Kana-ana  had  so  far  advanced  in  the  acquire- 
ment of  our  mellifluous  tongue  as  to  be  very  sue- 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  39 

cessful  in  returning  their  salutes.  I  had  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  convincing  him  of  the  enormity 
of  his  error.  The  little  convert  thought  it  was  our 
mode  of  greeting  strangers,  equivalent  to  their  more 
graceful  and  poetic  password,  Aloha,  "Love  to  you." 

My  little  cannibal  wasn't  easily  accustomed  to 
his  new  restraints,  such  as  clothes,  manners,  and 
forbidden  water  privileges.  He  several  times 
started  on  his  daily  pilgrimage  without  his  hat ; 
once  or  twice,  to  save  time,  put  his  coat  on  next  his 
skin  ;  and  though  I  finally  so  far  conquered  him  as 
to  be  sure  that  his  shirt  would  be  worn  on  the  inside 
instead  of  the  outside  of  his  trousers  (this  he  con- 
sidered a  great  waste  of  material),  I  was  in  constant 
terror  of  his  suddenly  disrobing  in  the  street  and 
plunging  into  the  first  water  we  came  to — which 
barbarous  act  would  have  insured  his  immediate 
arrest,  perhaps  confinement ;  and  that  would  have 
been  the  next  thing  to  death  in  his  case. 

So  we  perambulated  the  streets  and  the  suburbs, 
daily  growing  into  each  other's  grace ;  and  I  was 
thinking  of  the  propriety  of  instituting  a  series  of 
more  extended  excursions,  when  I  began  to  realize 
that  my  guest  was  losing  interest  in  our  wonderful 
city  and  the  possible  magnitude  of  her  future. 

He  grew  silent  and  melancholy  ;  he  quit  spelling 
entirely,  or  only  indulged  in  rare  and  fitful  (I  am 
pained  to  add,  fruitless)  attempts  at  spelling  God  in 
the  orthodox  fashion.  It  seemed  almost  as  though 
I  had  missed  my  calling ;  certainly,  I  was  hardly 
successful  as  a  missionary. 


4O  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

The  circus  failed  to  revive  him ;  the  beauty  of 
our  young  women  he  regarded  without  interest.  He 
was  less  devout  than  at  first,  when  he  used  to  insist 
upon  entering  every  church  we  came  to  and  sitting 
a  few  moments,  though  frequently  we  were  the  sole 
occupants  of  the  building.  He  would  steal  away 
into  remote  corners  of  the  house,  and  be  gone  for 
hours.  Twice  or  three  times  I  discovered  him  in  a 
dark  closet,  in  puris  naturalibus,  toying  with  a  singu- 
lar shell  strung  upon  a  feather  chain.  The  feathers 
of  the  chain  I  recognized  as  those  of  a  strange  bird 
held  as  sacred  among  his  people.  I  began  to  sus- 
pect the  occasion  of  his  malady  :  he  believed  him- 
self bewitched  or  accursed  of  some  one — a  common 
superstition  with  the  dark  races.  This  revelation 
filled  me  with  alarm  ;  for  he  would  think  nothing  of 
lying  down  to  die  under  the  impression  that  it  was 
his  fate,  and  no  medicine  under  the  heaven  could 
touch  him  further. 

I  began  telling  him  of  my  discovery,  begging  his 
secret  from  him.  In  vain  I  besought  him.  "It  was 
his  trouble;  he  must  go  back!"  I  told  him  he 
should  go  back  as  soon  as  possible  ;  that  we  would 
look  for  ourselves,  and  see  when  a  vessel  was  to  sail 
again.  I  took  him  among  the  wharves,  visiting,  in 
turn,  nearly  all  the  shipping  moored  there.  How  he 
lingered  about  them,  letting  his  eyes  wander  over 
the  still  bay  into  the  mellow  hazes  that  sometimes 
visit  our  brown  and  dusty  hills ! 

His  nature  seemed  to  find  an  affinity  in  the  tranquil 
tides,  the  far-sweeping  distances,  the  alluring  outlines 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  41 

of  the  coast,  where  it  was  blended  with  the  sea-line  in 
the  ever-mysterious  horizon.  After  these  visitations 
he  seemed  loath  to  return  again  among  houses  and 
people  ;  they  oppressed  and  suffocated  him. 

One  day,  as  we  were  wending  our  way  to  the 
city  front,  we  passed  a  specimen  of  grotesque  carv- 
ing, in  front  of  a  tobacconist's  establishment.  Kana- 
ana  stood  eying  the  painted  model  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  to  the  amazement  and  amusement  of  the 
tobacconist  and  one  or  two  bystanders,  fell  upon  his 
knees  before  it,  and  was  for  a  few  moments  lost  in 
prayer.  It  seemed  to  do  him  a  deal  of  good,  as  he 
was  more  cheerful  after  his  invocation — for  that  day, 
at  least ;  and  we  could  never  start  upon  any  subse- 
quent excursion  without  at  first  visiting  this  wooden 
Indian,  which  he  evidently  mistook  for  a  god. 

He  began  presently  to  bring  tributes,  in  the  shape 
of  small  cobble-stones,  which  he  surreptitiously  de- 
posited at  the  feet  of  his  new-found  deity,  and 
passed  on,  rejoicing.  His  small  altar  grew  from 
day  to  day,  and  his  spirits  were  lighter  as  he  beheld 
it  unmolested,  thanks  to  the  indifference  of  the  to- 
bacconist and  the  street  contractors. 

His  greatest  trials  were  within  the  confines  of  the 
bath-tub.  He  who  had  been  born  to  the  Pacific, 
and  reared  among  its  foam  and  breakers,  now 
doomed  to  a  seven -by-three  zinc  box  and  ten  inches 
of  water  !  He  would  splash  about  like  a  trout  in  a 
saucer,  bemoaning  his  fate.  Pilgrimages  to  the 
beach  were  his  greatest  delight ;  divings  into  the 
sea,  so  far  from  town  that  no  one  could  possibly  be 


42  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

shocked,  even  with  the  assistance  of  an  opera-glass, 
He  used  to  implore  a  daily  repetition  of  these  cau- 
tious and  inoffensive  recreations,  though,  once  in 
the  chilly  current,  he  soon  came  out  of  it,  shivering 
and  miserable.  Where  were  his  warm  sea-waves, 
and  the  shining  beach,  with  the  cocoa-palms  quiver- 
ing in  the  intense  fires  of  the  tropical  day  ?  How 
he  missed  them  and  mourned  for  them,  crooning 
a  little  chant  in  their  praises,  much  to  the  dispar- 
agement of  our  dry  hills,  cold  water,  and  careful 
people ! 

In  one  of  our  singular  walks,  when  he  had  been 
unusually  silent,  and  I  had  sought  in  vain  to  lift 
away  the  gloom  that  darkened  his  soul,  I  was  startled 
by  a  quick  cry  of  joy  from  the  lips  of  the  young 
exile — a  cry  that  was  soon  turned  into  a  sharp,  pro- 
longed, and  pitiful  wail  of  sorrow  and  despair.  We 
had  unconsciously  approached  an  art-gallery,  the 
deep  windows  of  which  were  beautified  with  a  few 
choice  landscapes  in  oil.  K&na-ana's  restless  and 
searching  eye,  doubtless  attracted  by  the  brilliant 
coloring  of  one  of  the  pictures,  seemed  in  a  moment 
to  comprehend  and  assume  the  rich  and  fervent 
spirit  with  which  the  artist  had  so  successfully  im- 
bued his  canvas. 

It  was  the  subject  which  had  at  first  delighted 
Kana-ana — the  splendid  charm  of  its  manipulation 
which  so  affected  him,  holding  him  there  wailing  in 
the  bitterness  of  a  natural  and  uncontrollable  sor- 
row. The  painting  was  illuminated  with  the  mel_ 
lowness  of  a  tropical  sunset.  A  transparent  light 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  43 

seemed  to  transfigure  the  sea  and  sky.  The  artist 
wrought  a  miracle  in  his  inspiration.  It  was  a  warm, 
hazy,  silent  sunset  forever.  The  outline  of  a  high, 
projecting  cliff  was  barely  visible  in  the  flood  of 
misty  glory  that  spread  over  the  face  of  it — a  cliff 
whose  delicate  tints  of  green  and  crimson  pictured 
in  the  mind  a  pyramid  of  leaves  and  flowers.  A 
valley  opened  its  shadowy  depths  through  the  spark- 
ling atmosphere,  and  in  the  centre  of  this  veiled 
chasm  the  pale  threads  of  two  waterfalls  seemed  to 
appear  and  disappear,  so  exquisitely  was  the  distance 
imitated.  Gilded  breakers  reeled  upon  a  palm- 
fringed  shore  ;  and  the  whole  was  hallowed  by  the 
perpetual  peace  of  an  unbroken  solitude. 

I  at  once  detected  the  occasion  of  Kana-ana's  agi- 
tation. Here  was  the  valley  of  his  birth — the  cliflj 
the  waterfall,  the  sea,  copied  faithfully,  at  that 
crowning  hour  when  they  are  indeed  super  naturally 
lovely.  At  that  moment,  the  promise  to  him  of  a 
return  would  have  been  mockery.  He  was  there  in 
spirit,  pacing  the  beach,  and  greeting  his  com- 
panions with  that  liberal  exchange  of  love  peculiar 
to  them.  Again  he  sought  our  old  haunt  by  the 
river,  watching  the  sun  go  down.  Again  he  waited 
listlessly  the  coming  of  night. 

It  was  a  wonder  that  the  police  did  not  march  us 
both  off  to  the  station-house  ;  for  the  little  refugee 
was  howling  at  the  top  of  his  lungs,  while  I  en- 
deavored to  quiet  him  by  bursting  a  sort  of  vocal 
tornado  about  his  ears.  I  then  saw  my  error.  I 
said  to  myself,  "  I  have  transplanted  a  flower  from 


44  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

the  hot  sand  of  the  Orient  to  the  hard  clay  of  our 
more  material  world — a  flower  too  fragile  to  be 
handled,  if  never  so  kindly.  Day  after  day  it  has 
been  fed,  watered,  and  nourished  by  nature.  Every 
element  of  life  has  ministered  to  its  development  in 
the  most  natural  way.  Its  attributes  are  God's  and 
Nature's  own.  I  bring  it  hither,  set  it  in  our  tough 
soil,  and  endeavor  to  train  its  sensitive  tendrils  in  one 
direction.  There  is  no  room  for  spreading  them 
here,  where  we  are  overcrowded  already.  It  finds  no 
succulence  in  its  cramped  bed,  no  warmth  in  our 
practical  and  selfish  atmosphere.  It  withers  from 
the  root  upward  ;  its  blossoms  are  falling  ;  it  will 
die  !  "  I  resolved  it  should  not  die.  Unfortunately, 
there  was  no  bark  announced  to  sail  for  his  island 
home  within  several  weeks.  I  could  only  devote  my 
energies  to  keeping  life  in  that  famishing  soul  until 
it  had  found  rest  in  the  luxurious  clime  of  its  na- 
tivity. 

At  last  the  bark  arrived.  We  went  at  once  to  see 
her  ;  and  I  could  hardly  persuade  the  little  home- 
sick soul  to  come  back  with  me  at  night.  He  who 
was  the  fire  of  hospitality  and  obliging  to  the  utter- 
most, at  home,  came  very  near  to  mutiny  just  then. 

It  was  this  civilization  that  had  wounded  him,  till 
the  thought  of  his  easy  and  pleasurable  life  among 
the  barbarians  stung  him  to  madness.  Should  he 
ever  see  them  again,  his  lovers  ?  ever  climb  with  the 
goat-hunters  among  the  clouds  yonder?  or  bathe, 
ride,  sport,  as  he  used  to,  till  the  day  was  spent  and 
the  night  come  ? 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  45 


Those  little  booths  near  the  wharves,  where  shells, 
corals,  and  gold-fish  are  on  sale,  were  Kana-ana's 
favorite  haunts  daring  the  last  few  days  he  spent 
here.  I  would  leave  him  seated  on  a  box  or  barrel 
by  one  of  those  epitomes  of  Oceanica,  and  return 
two  hours  later,  to  find  him  seated  as  I  had  left  him, 
and  singing  some  weird  mele — some  legend  of  his 
home.  These  musical  diversions  were  a  part  of  his 
nature,  and  a  very  grave  and  sweet  part  of  it,  too. 
A  few  words,  chanted  on  a  low  note,  began  the  song, 
when  the  voice  would  suddenly  soar  upward  with  a 
single  syllable  of  exceeding  sweetness,  and  there 
hang  trembling  in  bird-like  melody  till  it  died  away 
with  the  breath  of  the  singer. 

Poor,  longing  soul !  I  would  you  had  never  left 
the  life  best  suited  to  you — that  liberty  which  alone 
could  give  expression  to  your  wonderful  capacities. 
Not  many  are  so  rich  in  instincts  to  read  Nature,  to 
translate  her  revelations,  to  speak  of  her  as  an  orator 
endowed  with  her  surpassing  eloquence. 

It  will  always  be  a  sad  effort,  thinking  of  that  last 
night  together.  There  are  hours  when  the  experi- 
ences of  a  lifetime  seem  compressed  and  crowded 
together.  One  grows  a  head  taller  in  his  soul  at 
such  times,  and  perhaps  gets  suddenly  gray,  as  with 
a  fright,  also. 

Kana-ana  talked  and  talked  in  his  pretty,  broken 
English,  telling  me  of  a  thousand  charming  secrets  ; 
expressing  all  the  natural  graces  that  at  first  at- 
tracted me  to  him,  and  imploring  me  over  and  over 
to  return  with  him  and  dwell  in  the  antipodes.  How 


46  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

near  I  came  to  resolving,  then  and  there,  that  1 
would  go,  and  take  the  consequences — how  very 
near  I  came  to  it !  He  passed  the  night  in  coaxing, 
promising,  entreating  ;  and  was  never  more  interest- 
ing or  lovable.  It  took  just  about  all  the  moral 
courage  allotted  me  to  keep  on  this  side  of  barbar- 
ism on  that  eventful  occasion  ;  and  in  the  morning 
Kana-ana  sailed,  with  a  face  all  over  tears,  and 
agony,  and  dust. 

I  begged  him  to  select  something  for  a  remem- 
brancer ;  and  of  all  that  ingenuity  can  invent  and 
art  achieve  he  chose  a  metallic  chain  for  his  neck — 
chose  it,  probably,  because  it  glittered  superbly,  and 
was  good  to  string  charms  upon.  He  gave  me  the 
greater  part  of  his  wardrobe,  though  it  can  never  be 
of  any  earthly  use  to  me,  save  as  a  memorial  of  a 
passing  joy  in  a  life  where  joys  seem  to  have  little 
else  to  do  than  be  brief  and  palatable. 

He  said  he  "  should  never  want  them  again  ; "  and 
he  said  it  as  one  might  say  something  of  the  same 
sort  in  putting  by  some  instrument  of  degradation 
— conscious  of  renewed  manhood,  but  remembering 
his  late  humiliation,  and  bowing  to  that  remem- 
brance. 

So  Kana-ana,  and  the  bark,  and  all  that  I  ever 
knew  of  genuine,  spontaneous,  and  unfettered  love 
sailed  into  the  west,  and  went  down  with  the  sun  in 
a  glory  of  air,  sea,  and  sky,  trebly  glorious  that  even- 
ing. I  shall  never  meet  the  sea  when  it  is  bluest 
without  thinking  of  one  who  is  its  child  and  master. 
I  shall  never  see  mangoes  and  bananas  without 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  47 

thinking  of  him  who  is  their  brother  born  and 
brought  up  with  them.  I  shall  never  smell  cassia, 
or  clove,  or  jessamine,  but  a  thought  of  Kana-ana 
will  be  borne  upon  their  breath.  A  flying  skiff,  land 
in  the  far  distance  rising  slowly,  drifting  sea-grasses, 
a  clear  voice  burdened  with  melody,  all  belong  to 
him,  and  are  a  part  of  him. 

I  resign  my  office.  I  think  that,  perhaps,  instead 
of  my  having  converted  the  little  cannibal,  he  may 
have  converted  me.  I  am  sure,  at  least,  that  if  we 
two  should  begin  a  missionary  work  upon  one 
another,  I  should  be  the  first  to  experience  the  great 
change.  I  sent  my  convert  home,  feeling  he  wasn't 
quite  so  good  as  when  I  first  got  him  ;  and  I  truly 
wish  him  as  he  was. 

•  •  •  •  • 

I  can  see  you,  my  beloved,  sleeping,  naked,  in  the 
twilight  of  the  west.  The  winds  kiss  you  with  pure 
and  fragrant  lips.  The  sensuous  waves  invite  you 
to  their  embrace.  Earth  again  offers  you  her  varied 
store.  Partake  of  her  offering,  and  be  satisfied.  Re- 
turn, O  troubled  soul !  to  your  first  and  natural 
joys  ;  they  were  given  you  by  the  Divine  hand  that 
can  do  no  ill.  In  the  smoke  of  the  sacrifice  ascends 
the  prayer  of  your  race.  As  the  incense  fadeth  and 
is  scattered  upon  the  winds  of  heaven,  so  shall  your 
people  separate,  nevermore  to  assemble  among  the 
nations.  So  perish  your  superstitions,  your  necro- 
mancies, your  ancient  arts  of  war,  and  the  unwritten 
epics  of  your  kings. 

Alas,  Kana-ana !    As  the  foam  of  the  sea  you  love, 


48  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

as  the  fragrance  of  the  flower  you  worship,  shall 
your  precious  body  be  wasted,  and  your  untram- 
melled soul  pass  to  the  realms  of  your  fathers  ! 

Our  day  of  communion  is  over.  Behold  how 
Night  extends  her  wings  to  cover  you  from  my  sight  I 
She  may,  indeed,  hide  your  presence  ;  she  may 
withhold  from  me  the  mystery  of  your  future  ;  but 
she  cannot  take  from  me  that  which  I  have  ;  she 
cannot  rob  me  of  the  rich  influences  of  your  past. 

Dear  comrade,  pardon  and  absolve  your  spiritual 
adviser,  for  seeking  to  remould  so  delicate  and 
original  a  soul  as  yours ;  and,  though  neither 
prophet  nor  priest,  I  yet  give  you  the  kiss  of  peace 
at  parting,  and  the  benediction  of  unceasing  love. 


PAKT  m. 

BARBARIAN  DAYS. 

WE  had  been  watching  intently  the  faint,  shadowy 
outline  along  the  horizon,  and  wondering  whether 
it  were  really  land,  or  but  a  cloudy  similitude  of  it ; 
while  we  bore  down  upon  it  all  the  afternoon  in  fine 
style,  and  the  breeze  freshened  as  evening  came  on. 
It  was  all  clear  sailing,  and  we  were  in  pretty  good 
spirits,  which  is  not  always  the  case  with  lands- 
men at  sea. 

Sitting  there  on  the  after-deck,  I  had  asked  my- 
self, more  than  once,  If  life  were  made  up  of  placid 
days  like  this,  how  long  would  life  be  sweet  ?  I 
gave  it  up  every  time  ;  for  one  is  not  inclined  to 
consider  so  curiously  as  to  press  any  problem  to  a 
solution  in  those  indolent  latitudes. 

Perhaps  it  was  Captain  Kidd  who  told  me  he  had 
sailed  out  of  a  twelve-knot  breeze  on  a  sudden — 
slipping  off  the  edges  of  it,  as  it  were — and  found 
his  sails  all  aback  as  he  slid  into  a  dead  calm. 
There  rocking  in  still  weather,  he  saw  another  bark, 
almost  within  hail,  blown  into  the  west  and  out  of 
sight,  like  a  bird  in  a  March  gale. 

I  wonder  what  caused  me  to  think  of  Kidd's  ex- 
periences just  then  ?  I  can't  imagine,  unless  it  was 
4 


50  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

some  prescient  shadow  floating  in  my  neighbor- 
hood— the  precursor  of  the  little  event  that  fol- 
lowed. Such  things  do  happen,  and  when  we  least 
expect  it ;  though,  fortunately,  they  don't  worry  us 
as  a  general  thing.  I  didn't  worry  at  all,  but  sat 
there  by  myself,  while  some  of  my  fellow-passengers 
took  a  regular  "constitutional"  up  and  down  the 
deck,  and  over  and  over  it,  until  the  nervous  woman 
below  in  the  cabin  "  blessed  her  stars,"  and  wished 
herself  ashore. 

I  preferred  sitting  and  pondering  over  the  cloud 
that  seemed  slowly  to  rise  from  the  sea,  assuming 
definite  and  undeniable  appearances  of  land. 

I  knew  very  well  what  land  it  must  be  :  one  of  a 
group  of  islands  every  inch  of  which  I  had  traversed 
with  the  zeal  of  youthful  enthusiasm ;  but  which  of 
them,  was  a  question  I  almost  feared  to  have  an- 
swered. Yet,  what  difference  could  it  make  to  me  ! 
The  land  was  providentially  in  our  course,  but  not 
on  our  way-bill.  If  we  were  within  gunshot  of  its 
loveliest  portion,  we  must  needs  pass  on  as  frigidly 
as  though  it  were  Charybdis,  or  something  equally 
dreadful ;  and  I  began  to  think  it  might  be  some- 
thing of  the  sort,  because  of  its  besetting  temptations. 

There  was  not  the  slightest  doubt  as  to  the  cer- 
tainty of  its  being  land,  when  we  went  down  to 
supper ;  and  at  sunset  we  knew  the  dark  spots  were 
valleys,  and  the  bright  ones  hills.  I  fancied  a  hun- 
dred bronze-hued  faces  were  turned  toward  us,  as 
we  seemed  to  twinkle  away  off  in  their  sunset  sea 
like  a  fallen  star,  or  something  of  that  sort.  I 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  5 1 

thought  I  could  almost  hear  the  sea  beating  upon 
the  crusts  of  the  reef  in  the  twilight ;  but  perhaps  I 
didn't,  for  the  land  was  miles  away,  and  night  hid  it 
presently,  while  the  old  solitude  of  the  ocean  im- 
pressed us  all  as  though  we  were  again  in  the  midst 
of  its  unbroken,  circular  wastes.  Then  they  played 
whist  in  the  cabin— all  but  me.  I  hung  over  the 
ship's  side,  resolved  to  watch  all  night  for  the  lights 
on  shore — the  flickering  watch-fires  in  the  moun- 
tain camps ;  for  I  knew  I  should  see  them,  as  we 
were  bound  to  pass  the  island  before  morning. 

The  night  was  intensely  dark  ;  clouds  muffled  the 
stars,  and  not  a  spark  of  light  was  visible  in  any  di- 
rection over  the  waters.  A  shower  could  easily  have 
quenched  the  beacons  I  was  seeking,  and  my  vigil 
soon  became  tedious  ;  so  presently  I  followed  the 
others  and  turned  in,  rather  disconsolate  and  dis- 
gusted. 

Toward  midnight  the  wind  fell  rapidly,  and  with- 
in half  an  hour  we  found  ourselves  in  a  dead  calm, 
when  the  moan  of  the  breakers  was  quite  audible  on 
our  starboard  quarter.  The  captain  was  nervous 
and  watchful ;  the  currents  in  the  channel  were 
strong,  and  he  saw  by  the  variation  in  the  compass, 
that  the  vessel  was  being  whirled  in  a  great  circle 
around  a  point  of  the  island. 

Fortunately  it  began  to  get  light  before  the  dan- 
ger grew  imminent.  At  three  o'clock  we  were 
within  soundings,  and  shortly  after  we  plumped  the 
anchor  into  the  rough  coral  at  the  bottom  of  a  pretty 
little  harbor,  where,  the  captain  informed  us,  we  must 


52  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

ride  all  day  and  get  out  with  the  land-breeze,  that 
would  probably  come  down  at  night.  I  rushed  up 
in  the  gray  dawn,  and  bent  my  gaze  upon  the  shore. 
I  think  I  must  have  turned  pale  or  trembled  a  lit- 
tle, or  done  something  sensational  and  appropriate, 
though  no  one  observed  it ;  whereat  I  was  rather 
glad,  on  the  whole,  for  they  could  not  have  under- 
stood it  if  I  had  done  my  best  to  explain — which  I 
had  not  the  least  idea  of  doing,  however,  for  it  was 
none  of  their  affair. 

I  knew  that  place  the  moment  I  saw  it — the  very 
spot  of  all  I  most  desired  to  see ;  and  I  resolved,  in 
my  secret  soul,  to  go  ashore,  there  and  then  ;  ami- 
cably if  I  might,  forcibly  if  I  must. 

The  captain  was  not  over-genial  that  morning, 
either ;  he  hated  detention,  and  was  a  trifle  ner- 
vous about  being  tied  up  under  the  lee  of  the  land 
for  twelve  or  twenty  hours.  So  he  growled  if  any- 
one approached  him  all  that  day,  and  positively  re- 
fused to  allow  the  ship's  boat  to  be  touched,  unless 
we  drifted  upon  the  rocks,  broadside — which,  he 
seemed  to  think,  was  not  entirely  out  of  question. 
I  was  sure  there  would  be  a  canoe — perhaps  several — 
alongside  by  sunrise  ;  so  I  said  nothing,  but  waited 
in  silence,  determined  to  desert  when  the  time  came  ; 
and  the  captain  might  whistle  me  back  if  he  could. 

Presently  the  time  came.  We  were  rocking  easily 
on  the  swell,  directly  to  the  eastward  of  a  deep 
valley.  The  sky  was  ruddy  ;  the  air  fresh  and  in- 
vigorating, but  soft  as  the  gales  of  Paradise.  We 
were  in  the  tropics.  You  would  have  known  it  with 


CHUMMING    WITH 'A    SAVAGE  53 

your  eyes  shut ;  the  whole  wonderful  atmosphere 
confessed  it.  But,  with  your  eyes  open,  those 
white  birds,  sailing  like  snow-flakes  through  the 
immaculate  blue  heavens,  with  tail-feathers  like  our 
pennant ;  the  floating  gardens  of  the  sea,  through 
which  we  had  been  ruthlessly  ploughing  for  a  cou- 
ple of  days  back ;  the  gorgeous  sunrises  and  sun- 
sets— all  were  proofs  positive  of  our  latitude. 

What  a  sunrise  it  was  on  that  morning  !  Yet  I 
stood  with  my  back  to  it,  looking  west ;  for  there  I 
saw,  firstly,  the  foam  on  the  reef — as  crimson  as 
blood — falling  over  the  wine-stained  waves  ;  then  it 
changed  as  the  sun  ascended,  like  clouds  of  golden 
powder,  indescribably  magnificent,  shaken  and  scat- 
tered upon  the  silver  snow-drifts  of  the  coral  reef, 
dazzling  to  behold,  and  continually  changing. 

Beyond  it,  in  the  still  water,  was  reflected  a  long, 
narrow  strip  of  beach  ;  above  it,  green  pastures  and 
umbrageous  groves,  with  native  huts,  like  great 
birds'-nests,  half  hidden  among  them  ;  and  the 
weird,  slender  cocoa-palms  were  there — those  ex- 
clamation-points in  the  poetry  of  tropic  landscape. 
All  this  lay  slumbering  securely  between  high  walls 
of  verdure  ;  while  at  the  upper  end,  where  the 
valley  was  like  a  niche  set  in  the  green  and  glorious 
mountains,  two  waterfalls  floated  downward  like 
smoke-columns  on  a  heavy  morning.  Angels  and 
ministers  of  grace  !  do  you,  in  your  airy  perambu- 
lations, visit  haunts  more  lovely  than  this? — as 
lovely  as  that  undiscovered  country  from  whose 
bourn  the  traveller  would  rather  not  look  back,  pre- 


54  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

mising  that  the  traveller  were  as  singularly  const* 
tuted  as  I  am  ;  which  is,  peradventure,  not  probable. 

They  knew  it  was  morning  almost  as  soon  as  we 
did,  though  they  lived  a  few  furlongs  farther  west, 
and  had  no  notion  of  the  immediate  proximity  of  a 
strange  craft — by  no  means  rakish  in  her  rig,  how- 
ever ;  only  a  simple  merchantman,  bound  for  Auck- 
land from  San  Francisco,  but  the  victim  of  circum- 
stances, and,  in  consequence,  tied  to  the  bottom  of 
the  sea  when  half-way  over. 

They  knew  it  was  morning.  I  saw  them  swarm- 
ing out  of  their  grassy  nests,  brown,  sleek-limbed, 
and  naked.  They  regarded  with  amazement  our 
floating  home.  The  news  spread,  and  the  groves 
were  suddenly  peopled  with  my  dear  barbarians, 
who  hate  civilization  almost  as  much  as  I  do,  and 
are  certainly  quite  as  idolatrous  and  indolent  as  I 
ever  aspire  to  be. 

I  turned  my  palms  outward  toward  them  ;  I  lifted 
up  my  voice  and  cried,  "  Hail,  my  brothers  !  We 
hasten  with  the  morning  ;  we  follow  after  the  sun. 
Greetings  to  you,  dwellers  in  the  West ! " 

Nobody  heard  me.  I  looked  again.  Down  they 
came  upon  the  shore,  wading  into  the  sea.  Then 
such  a  carnival  as  they  celebrated  in  the  shallow 
water  was  a  novelty  for  some  of  my  cabin  friends  ; 
but  I  knew  all  about  it.  I'd  done  the  same  thing 
often  enough  myself,  when  I  was  young,  and  free, 
and  innocent,  and  savage.  I  knew  they  were  asking 
themselves  a  thousand  questions  as  to  our  sudden 
appearance  in  their  seas,  and  would  rather  like  to 


CHUMMING    WITH  A    SAVAGE  55 

know  who  we  were,  and  where  we  were  going,  but 
scorned  to  ask  us.  They  had  once  or  twice  been 
visited  by  the  same  sort  of  whitish-looking  people, 
and  they  had  found  those  colorless  faces  uncivil, 
and  the  bleached-out  skins  by  no  means  to  be 
trusted  with  those  whom  they  considered  their  in- 
feriors. They  didn't  know  that  it  is  one  of  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles  of  Civilization  to  bully  one's 
way  through  the  world.  Then  I  prayed  that  they 
might  be  moved  to  send  out  a  canoe,  so  that  I  could 
debark  and  go  inland  for  the  day.  I  prayed  very 
earnestly,  and  out  she  came — one  of  their  tiny, 
fragile  canoes,  looking  like  a  deserted  chrysalis,  with 
the  invisible  wings  of  the  spiritual,  tutelary  butter- 
fly wafting  it  over  the  waves.  In  this  chrysalis  dug- 
out sat  a  tough  little  body,  with  a  curly  head,  which 
I  recognized  in  a  minute  as  belonging  to  a  once 
friend  and  comrade  in  my  delightful  exile,  when  I 
was  a  successful  prodigal,  and  wasted  my  substance 
in  the  most  startling  and  effectual  manner,  and  en- 
joyed it  a  great  deal  better  than  if  I  had  kept  it  in 
the  bank,  as  they  advised  me  to  do.  On  he  came, 
beating  the  sea  with  his  broad  paddle,  alternately  by 
either  side  of  the  canoe,  and  regarding  us  with  a 
commendable  degree  of  suspicion.  I  greeted  him 
in  his  peculiar  dialect.  The  gift  of  tongues  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  descended  upon  me,  for  I  found 
little  difficulty  in  saying  everything  I  wanted  to  say, 
in  a  remarkably  brief  space  of  time. 

"  Hail,  little  friend  !  "  said  I ;  "  great  love  to  yro. 
How  is  it  on  shore  now  ?  " 


56  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

He  replied  that  it  was  decidedly  nice  on  shore 
now,  and  that  his  love  for  me  was  as  much  as  mine 
for  him,  and  more  too,  and  that  consequently  he  was 
prepared  to  conduct  me  thither,  regardless  of  ex- 
pense. 

I  went  with  that  lovely  boy  on  shore.  The 
captain  could  not  resist  my  persuasive  appeals  fo>:  a 
short  leave  of  absence,  and  so  I  went.  Perhaps  it 
would  not  have  been  advisable  for  him  to  have  sup- 
pressed me ;  and  he  made  a  courteous  virtue  of 
necessity. 

I  had  leave  to  stop  till  evening,  unless  I  heard  a 
signal-gun,  upon  hearing  which  I  was  to  return  im- 
mediately on  board,  or  suffer  the  consequences. 

Now,  I  am  free  to  confess,  that  the  consequences 
didn't  appall  me  as  we  swung  off  from  the  vessel, 
where  I  had  been  an  uneasy  prisoner  for  many 
days ;  and  I  fell  to  chatting  with  Niga,  my  dusky 
friend,  in  a  sort  of  desperate  joy. 

Niga  was  a  regular  trump.  He  had  more  than 
once  piled  on  horseback  behind  me,  in  the  sweet  days 
when  we  used  to  ride  double — yea,  and  even  treble, 
if  necessary.  There  was  usually  a  great  deal  more 
boy  than  horse  on  the  premises ;  hence  this  ques- 
tionable economy  in  our  cavalry  regulations.  Niga 
told  me  many  things  as  we  drew  near  the  reef :  he 
talked  of  nearly  everybody  and  everything  ;  but  of 
all  that  he  told  me,  he  said  nothing  of  the  one  I 
most  longed  to  hear  about  Yet,  somehow  or  other, 
I  could  not  quite  bring  myself  to  ask  him,  out  and 
out,  this  question.  You  know,  sometimes  it  is  hard 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  $? 

to  shape  words  just  as  you  want  them  shaped,  and 
the  question  is  never  asked  in  consequence. 

The  reef  was  growling  tremendously.  We  were 
drawing  nearer  to  it  every  moment.  I  thought  the 
chances  were  against  us  ;  but  Niga  was  self-pos- 
sessed, and,  as  he  had  crossed  it  once  that  morning 
— and  in  the  more  dangerous  direction  of  the  two, 
that  is,  against  the  grain  of  the  waves — I  concluded 
there  was  no  special  need  of  my  making  a  scene  ; 
and  in  the  next  moment  we  were  poised  on  a  terrific 
cataract  of  glittering  and  rushing  breakers,  snatched 
up  and  held  trembling  in  mid-air,  with  the  canoe 
half  filled  with  water,  and  I  perfectly  blind  with 
spray. 

It  was  a  memorable  moment  in  a  very  short  voy- 
age ;  and  the  general  verdict  on  board  ship,  where 
they  were  watching  us  with  some  interest,  was,  that 
it  served  me  right. 

When  my  eyes  were  once  more  free  of  the  water, 
I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  the  natives,  who  had 
been  waiting  just  inside  of  the  reef  to  receive  us ; 
and,  as  they  recognized  me,  they  laid  a  hand  on  the 
canoe,  as  many  as  could  crowd  about  it,  fairly  lifting 
it  out  of  the  water  on  our  way  to  the  shore,  all  the 
while  wailing  at  the  top  of  their  voices  their  mourn- 
ful and  desolate  wail. 

It  was  impossible  for  me  to  decide  whether  that 
chant  of  theirs  was  an  expression  of  joy  or  sorrow, 
the  nature  of  it  is  precisely  the  same,  in  either 
case. 

So  we  went  on  shore  in  our  little  triumphal  pro- 


58  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

cession,  and  there  I  was  embraced  in  a  very  em- 
phatic manner  by  savages  of  every  conceivable  sex, 
age,  and  color.  Having  mutely  submitted  to  their 
genuine  expressions  of  love,  I  was  conducted — a 
willing  and  bewildered  captive — along  the  beach, 
around  the  little  point  that  separates  the  river  from 
the  sea,  and  thence  by  the  river-bank  to  the  house 
I  knew  so  well.  I  believe  I  looked  at  every  dusky 
face  in  that  assemblage,  two  or  three  times  over, 
but  saw  not  the  one  I  sought. 

What  could  it  mean?  Was  he  hunting  in  the 
mountains,  or  fishing  beyond  the  headland,  or  sick, 
or  in  prison,  that  he  came  not  to  greet  me  ?  Surely, 
something  had  befallen  him — something  serious  and 
unusual — or  he  would  have  been  the  first  to  wel- 
come me  home  to  barbarism  ! 

A  strange  dread  clouded  my  mind ;  it  increased 
and  multiplied  as  we  passed  on  toward  the  house 
that  had  been  home  to  me.  Then,  having  led  me 
to  the  outer  door,  the  people  all  sat  there  upon  the 
ground,  and  began  wailing  piteously. 

I  hastily  crossed  the  narrow  outer  room,  lifted 
the  plaited  curtain,  and  entered  the  inner  chamber, 
where  I  had  spent  my  strange,  wild  holiday  long 
months  before.  I  looked  earnestly  about  me,  while 
my  eyes  gradually  became  familiar  with  the  dull 
light.  Nothing  seemed  changed.  I  could  point  at 
once  to  almost  every  article  in  the  room.  It  seemed 
but  yesterday  that  I  had  stolen  away  from  them 
in  the  gray  dawn,  and  repented  my  desertion  too 
late. 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  59 

I  soon  grew  accustomed  to  the  sombre  light  of 
the  room.  I  saw  sitting  about  me,  in  the  corners, 
bowed  figures,  with  their  faces  hidden  in  grief. 
There  was  no  longer  any  doubt  as  to  the  nature  of 
their  emotion.  It  was  grief  that  had  stricken  the 
household,  and  the  grief  that  death  alone  occasions. 
I  counted  every  figure  in  the  room  ;  I  recognized 
each,  the  same  that  I  had  known  when  I  dwelt 
among  them  ;  he  alone  was  absent. 

I  don't  know  what  possessed  me  at  that  moment. 
J[  felt  an  almost  uncontrollable  desire  to  laugh,  as 
though  it  were  some  masque  gotten  up  for  my 
amusement.  Then  I  wished  they  would  cease  their 
masking,  for  I  felt  too  miserable  to  laugh.  Then  I 
was  utterly  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  do  ;  so  I 
walked  to  the  old-fashioned  bed — our  old-fashioned 
bed — in  the  corner,  looking  just  as  it  used  to.  I 
think  the  same  old  spider  was  there  still,  clinging 
to  the  canopy  ;  the  very  same  old  fellow,  in  his 
harlequin  tights,  that  we  used  to  watch,  and  talk 
about,  and  wonder  what  he  was  thinking  of,  to  stop 
so  still,  day  after  day,  and  week  after  week,  up  there 
on  the  canopy.  I  threw  myself  upon  the  edge  of 
the  bed,  my  feet  resting  upon  the  floor  ;  and  there 
I  tried  to  think  of  everything  but  that  one  dreadful 
reality  that  would  assert  itself,  in  spite  of  my  efforts 
to  deny  it. 

Where  was  my  friend  ?  Where  could  he  be,  that 
these,  his  friends,  were  so  bowed  with  sorrow  ?  The 
question  involved  a  revelation,  already  anticipated 
in  my  mind.  That  revelation  I  dreaded  as  I  would 


OO  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

dread  my  own  death-sentence.  But  it  came  at  lust 
A  woman  who  had  been  humbling  herself  in  the 
dust  moved  toward  me  from  the  shadow  that  half 
concealed  her.  She  did  not  rise  to  her  feet ;  she 
was  half  reclining  on  the  mats  of  the  floor,  her  feat- 
ures veiled  in  the  long,  black  hair  of  her  race.  One 
hand  was  extended  toward  me,  then  the  other ;  the 
body  followed  ;  and  so  she  moved,  slowly  and  pain- 
fully, toward  the  bedside. 

It  was  his  mother.  I  knew  her  intuitively. 
Close  to  the  bed  she  came,  and  crouched  by  me, 
upon  the  floor.  There,  with  one  hand  clasped  close 
over  mine,  the  other  flooded  with  her  copious  tears, 
and  her  forehead  bowed  almost  to  the  floor,  she 
poured  forth  the  measure  of  her  woe.  The  moment 
her  voice  was  heard,  those  out  of  the  house  ceased 
wailing,  and  seemed  to  be  listening  to  the  elegy  of 
the  bereaved. 

Her  voice  was  husky  with  grief,  broken  again 
and  again  with  sobs.  I  seemed  to  understand  per- 
fectly the  nature  of  her  story,  though  my  knowl- 
edge of  the  dialect  was  very  deficient. 

The  mother's  soul  was  quickened  with  her  pa- 
thetic theme.  The  frenzy  of  the  poet  inspired  her 
lips.  It  was  an  epic  she  was  chanting,  celebrat- 
ing the  career  of  her  boy-hero.  She  told  of  his 
birth,  and  wonderful  childhood  ;  of  his  beautiful 
strength  ;  of  his  sublime  affection,  and  the  friend  it 
had  brought  him  from  over  the  water. 

She  referred  frequently  to  our  former  associa- 
tions, and  seemed  to  delight  in  dwelling  upon  them. 


CHUMMING   WITH  A   SAVAGE  6 1 

Then  came  the  story  of  his  death — the  saddest  can- 
to of  the  melancholy  whole. 

How  shall  I  ever  forgive  myself  the  selfish  pleas- 
ure I  took  in  striving  to  remodel  an  immortal  soul  ? 
What  business  had  I  to  touch  so  sensitive  an  organ- 
ism ;  susceptible  of  infinite  impressions,  but  incapa- 
ble, in  its  prodigality,  of  separating  and  dismissing 
the  evil,  and  retaining  only  the  good — therefore  fit 
only  to  increase  and  develop  in  the  suitable  atmos- 
phere with  which  the  Creator  had  surrounded  it  ? 

Why  did  I  not  foresee  the  climax  ? 

I  might  have  known  that  one  reared  in  the  nur- 
sery of  Nature,  as  free  to  speak  and  act  as  the  very 
winds  of  heaven  to  blow  whither  they  list,  could  ill 
support  the  manacles  of  our  modern  proprieties. 
Of  what  use  to  him  could  be  a  knowledge  *>f  the 
artifices  of  society?  Simply  a  temptation  and  a 
snare ! 

What  was  the  story  of  his  fate  ?  That  he  came 
safely  home,  rejoicing  in  his  natural  freedom  ;  that 
he  could  not  express  his  delight  at  finding  home  so 
pleasant ;  that  his  days  were  spent  in  telling  of 
the  wonderful  things  he  had  seen  ;  more  sects  than 
the  gods  of  the  South  Seas  ;  more  doubters  than 
believers ;  contradictions,  and  insults,  and  suspi- 
cions, everywhere.  They  laughed  again,  when  they 
thought  of  us,  and  pitied  us  all  the  while. 

But  his  exhilaration  wore  off,  after  a  time.  Then 
came  the  reaction.  A  restlessness  ;  an  undefined, 
unsatisfied  longing.  Life  became  a  burden  The 
seed  of  dissension  had  fallen  in  fresh  and  fallow 


62  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

soil ;  it  was  a  souvenir  of  his  sojourn  among  us. 
He,  the  child  of  Nature,  must  now  follow  out  the  ar- 
tificial and  hollow  life  of  the  world,  or  die  unsatis- 
fied ;  for  he  could  not  return  to  his  original  sphere 
of  trust  and  contentment.  He  had  learned  to  doubt 
all  things,  as  naturally  as  any  of  us. 

For  days  he  moaned  in  spirit,  and  was  troubled  ; 
nothing  consoled  him  ;  his  soul  was  broken  of  its 
rest ;  he  grew  desperate  and  melancholy. 

I  believe  he  was  distracted  with  the  problem  of 
society,  and  I  cannot  wonder  at  it.  One  day,  when 
his  condition  had  become  no  longer  endurable,  he 
stole  off  to  sea  in  his  canoe,  thinking,  perhaps,  that 
he  could  reach  this  continent,  or  some  other  ;  possi- 
bly hoping  never  again  to  meet  human  faces,  for  he 
could  not  trust  them. 

It  was  his  heroic  exit  from  a  life  that  no  longer 
interested  him.  Great  was  the  astonishment  of  the 
islanders,  who  looked  upon  him  as  one  possessed  of 
the  Evil  Spirit,  and  special  sacrifices  were  offered  in 
his  behalf  ;  but  the  gods  were  inexorable  ;  and,  af- 
ter several  days  upon  the  solitary  sea,  a  shadow,  a 
mote,  drifted  toward  the  valley — a  canoe,  with  a 
famishing  and  delirious  voyager,  that  was  presently 
tossed  and  broken  in  the  surges ;  then,  a  dark  body 
glistened  for  a  moment,  wet  with  spray,  and  sank 
forever,  while  the  shining  coral  reef  was  stained 
with  the  blood  of  the  first-born. 

I  heard  it  all  in  the  desolate  wail  of  the  mother, 
yet  could  not  weep  ;  my  eyes  burned  like  tire. 

Little  Niga  came  for  me  presently,  and  led  me  in- 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  63 

to  the  great  grove  of  kamane-trees,  up  the  valley. 
He  insisted  upon  holding  me  by  the  hand  :  it  was 
all  he  could  do  to  comfort  me,  and  he  did  that  with 
his  whole  soul. 

In  silence  we  pressed  on  to  one  of  the  largest  of 
the  trees.  I  recognized  it  at  once.  Niga  and  I,  one 
day,  went  thither,  and  I  cut  a  name  upon  the  soft 
bark  of  the  tree. 

When  we  reached  it  we  paused.  Niga  pointed 
with  his  finger  ;  I  looked.  It  was  there  yet — a  sim- 
ple name,  carved  in  the  rudest  fashion.  I  read  the 
letters,  which  had  since  become  an  epitaph.  They 
were  these : 

"KANA-ANA,  M.  16  yrs." 

Under  them  were  three  initials — my  own — cut  by 
the  hand  of  Kana-ana,  after  his  return  from  Amer- 
ica. 

We  sat  down  in  the  gloomy  grove.  "  Tell  me,"  I 
said,  **  tell  me,  Niga,  where  has  his  spirit  gone  ?  " 

"He  is  here,  now,"  said  Niga;  "he  can  see  us. 
Perhaps,  some  day,  we  shall  see  him." 

"  You  have  more  faith  than  our  philosophers,  for 
they  have  reasoned  themselves  out  of  everything. 
Would  you  like  to  be  a  philosopher,  Niga  ?  "  I  asked. 

Niga  thought,  if  they  were  going  to  die,  body  and 
soul,  that  he  wouldn't  like  to  be  anything  of  the 
sort,  and  that  he  had  rather  be  a  first-class  savage 
than  a  fourth  rate  Christian,  any  day. 

I  interrupted  him  at  this  alarming  assertion. 
:<  The  philosophers  would  call  your  faith  a  supersti- 


64  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

tion,  Niga  ;  they  do  not  realize  that  there  is  no  true 
faith  unmixed  with  superstition,  since  faith  implies 
a  belief  in  something  unseen,  and  is,  therefore,  it- 
self a  superstition.  Blessed  is  the  man  who  believes 
blindly — call  it  what  you  please — for  peace  shall 
dwell  in  his  soul.  But,  Niga,"  I  continued,  "where 
is  God?" 

"  Here,  and  here,  and  here,"  said  Niga,  pointing 
me  to  a  grotesque  carving  in  the  sacred  grove,  to 
a  monument  upon  the  distant  precipice,  and  to  a 
heap  of  rocks  in  the  sea  ;  and  the  smile  of  recog- 
nition with  which  the  little  votary  greeted  his  idols 
was  a  solemn  proof  of  his  sincerity. 

"Niga,"  I  said,  "we  call  you  and  your  kind 
heathens.  It  is  a  harmless  anathema,  which  can- 
not, in  the  least,  affect  you  personally.  Ask  us  if 
we  love  God  !  Of  course  we  do.  Do  we  love  him 
above  all  things,  animate  or  inanimate  ?  Undoubt- 
edly !  Undoubtedly  is  easily  said,  and  let  us  give 
ourselves  credit  for  some  honesty.  We  believe  that 
we  do  love  God,  above  all ;  that  we  have  no  other 
gods  before  him  ;  yet,  who  of  us  will  give  up  wealth, 
home,  friends,  and  follow  him  ?  Not  one.  The 
God  we  love  is  a  very  vague,  invisible,  forbearing 
essence.  He  can  afford  to  be  lenient  with  us  while 
we  are  debating  whether  our  neighbor  is  serving 
him  in  the  right  fashion  or  not.  We'd  rather  not 
have  other  gods  before  him  :  one  is  as  many  as  we 
find  it  convenient  to  serve.  The  lover  kisses  pas- 
sionately a  miniature.  It  is  not,  however,  an  image 
of  his  Creator,  nor  any  memorial  of  his  Redeemer's 


CHUMMItfG    WITH  A   SAVAGE  65 

passion,  but  only  a  portrait  of  his  mistress.  Do  you 
blame  us,  Niga?  It  is  the  strongest  instinct  of 
our  nature  to  worship  something.  Man  is  a  born 
idolater,  and  not  one  of  us  is  exempted  by  reason  of 
any  scruples  under  the  sun.  You  see  it  daily  and 
hourly  :  each  one  has  his  idols." 

Little  Niga,  who  sympathized  deeply  with  me, 
seemed  to  have  gotten  some  knowledge  of  our  pecul- 
iarly mixed  theories  concerning  God  and  the  future 
state,  from  conversations  overheard  after  the  return 
of  Kana-ana.  He  tried  to  console  me  with  the  as- 
surance that  Kana-ana  died  a  devoted  and  unshaken 
adherent  to  the  faith  of  his  fathers. 

I  could  not  but  feel  that  his  blood  was  off  my  hands 
when  I  learned  this  ;  and  I  believe  I  gave  Niga  a 
regular  hug  in  that  moment  of  joy. 

Then  we  walked  here  and  there,  through  the  val- 
ley, and  visited  the  old  haunts,  made  memorable  by 
many  incidents  in  that  romantic  and  chivalrous  life 
of  the  South.  Everyone  we  met  had  some  word  to 
add  concerning  the  Pride  of  the  Valley,  dead  in  his 
glorious  youth. 

Over  and  over,  they  assured  me  of  his  fidelity  to 
me,  his  white  brother,  adding  that  Kana-ana  had, 
more  than  once,  expressed  the  deepest  regret  at  not 
having  brought  me  back  with  him. 

He  even  meditated  sending  for  me,  in  the  same 
manner  that  I  had  sent  for  him  ;  and,  if  he  had  done 
so  it  was  his  purpose  to  see  that  I  was  at  once  made 
familiar  with  their  Articles  of  Faith  ;  for  he  antici- 
pated a  willing  convert  in  me,  and  it  was  the  desire 
5 


66  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

of  his  heart  that  I  should  know  that  perfect  trust, 
peculiar  to  his  people,  and  which  is  begotten  of  the 
brief  gospel,  so  often  quoted  out  of  place  :  namely, 
that  "  seeing  is  believing." 

It  was  a  kind  thought  of  his,  and  I  wish  he  had 
carried  it  into  execution,  for  then  he  might  have 
lived.  It  was  his  susceptible  nature  that  had  come 
in  contact  with  the  great  world,  and  received  its 
death-wound.  Had  I  been  there  to  help  him,  I 
would  have  planned  something  to  divert  his  mind 
until  he  had  recovered  himself,  and  was  willing  to 
submit  to  the  monotony  of  life  over  yonder.  Had 
he  not  done  as  much  for  me  ?  Had  he  not  striven, 
day  after  day,  to  charm  me  with  his  barbarism,  and 
come  very  near  to  success  ?  I  should  say  he  had. 
Dear  little  martyr  !  was  he  not  the  only  boy  I  ever 
truly  loved — dead  now  in  his  blossoming  prime  ! 

0  Kana-ana !     Little  Niga  and  I  sat  talking  of 
you,  down  by  the  sea,  and  we  wept  for  you  at  last ; 
for  the  tears  came  by  and  by,  when  I  began  fully  to 
realize  the  greatness  of  my  loss.     All  your  youth, 
and  beauty,  and  freshness,  in  destruction,  and  your 
body  swallowed  up  in  the  graves  of  the  sea  ! 

The  meridian  sun  blazed  overhead,  but  it  made 
little  difference  to  us.  Afternoon  passed,  and  even- 
ing was  coming  on  almost  unheeded  ;  for  our 
thoughts  were  buried  with  him,  under  the  waves, 
and  life  was  nothing  to  us  then. 

1  no  longer  cared  to  observe  the  lights  and  shad- 
dows  on  the  cliffs,  nor  the  poppy  nodding  in  the 
wind,  nor  the  seaward  prospect :  that  was  spoiled 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  6/ 

by  our  vessel — the  seclusion  was  broken  in  upon. 
I  cared  for  nothing  any  longer,  for  I  missed  every- 
where his  step,  patient  and  faithful  as  a  dog's,  and 
his  marvellous  face,  that  could  look  steadily  at  the 
sun  without  winking,  and  deluge  itself  with  laughter 
all  the  while,  for  there  was  nothing  hidden  or  cor- 
rupting in  it. 

Presently  I  returned  into  the  sacred  grove,  touch- 
ing the  three  letters  he  had  carved  there,  and  calling 
on  his  spirit  to  regard  me  as  respecting  his  dumb 
idols,  which  were  nothing  but  the  representatives  of 
his  jealous  gods — dear  to  him  as  the  Garden  of 
Gethsemane,  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  the  shining 
summits  of  Calvary  to  us.  Then  down  I  ran  to  the 
bathing-pools,  and  from  place  to  place  I  wandered 
in  a  hurried  and  nervous  tour,  for  it  was  growing 
dark.  I  saw  the  ship's  lights  flickering  over  the 
water,  while  the  first  cool  whispers  of  the  night- 
wind  came  down  from  the  hills,  filling  me  with  warn- 
ings; in  the  midst  of  which  there  was  a  flash  of 
flame,  and  a  sudden,  thunderous  report — enough  to 
awaken  the  dead  of  the  valley — and  I  turned  to  go. 
I  believe,  if  dear  Kana-ana  had  been  there,  as  I 
prayed  he  might  be,  I  would  have  laughed  at  that 
signal  and  hastened  inland  to  avoid  discovery;  for 
I  was  sick  of  the  world.  I  might  have  had  reason 
to  regret  it  afterward,  because  friendship  is  not 
elastic,  and  the  best  of  friends  cannot  long  submit 
to  being  bored  by  the  best  of  fellows.  Perhaps  it 
was  just  as  it  should  be  :  I  had  no  time  to  consider 
the  matter  there.  I  hurried  to  his  mother,  and  she 


68  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

clung  to  me  ;  others  came  about  me  and  laid  hold 
of  me,  so  that  I  feared  I  should  be  held  captive  un- 
til it  was  too  late  to  board  the  vessel.  Her  sails 
were  even  then  shaking  in  the  wind,  and  I  heard, 
the  faint  click  of  the  capstan  tugging  at  the  anchor- 
chains. 

With  a  quick  impulse  I  broke  away  from  them 
and  ran  to  the  beach,  where  Niga  and  I  entered  his 
canoe,  and  slid  off  from  the  sloping  sands.  Down 
we  drifted  toward  the  open  sea,  while  the  natives 
renewed  their  wailing,  and  I  was  half  crazed  with 
sorrow.  It  is  impossible  to  resist  the  persuasive 
eloquence  of  their  chants.  Think,  then,  with  what 
a  troubled  spirit  I  heard  them,  as  we  floated  on  be- 
tween the  calm  stars  in  the  heavens  and  the  whirling 
stars  in  the  sea. 

We  went  out  to  the  ship's  side,  and  little  Niga 
was  as  noisy  as  any  of  them  when  I  pressed  upon 
him  a  practical  memorial  of  my  visit ;  and  away  he 
drifted  into  the  night,  with  his  boyish  babble 
pitched  high  and  shrill  ;  and  the  Present  speedily 
became  the  Past,  and  grew  old  in  a  moment. 

Then  I  looked  for  the  last  time  upon  that  faint 
and  cloudy  picture,  and  seemed  almost  to  see  the 
spirit  of  the  departed  beckoning  to  me  with  waving 
arms  and  imploring  looks ;  and  I  longed  for  him 
with  the  old  longing,  that  will  never  release  me 
from  my  willing  bondage.  I  blessed  him  in  his  new 
life,  and  I  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy  that  he 
was  freed  at  last  from  the  tyranny  of  life — released 
from  the  unsolvable  riddles  of  the  ages.  The  night- 


CHUMMING    WITH  A   SAVAGE  69 

wind  was  laden  with  music,  and  sweet  with  the  odors 
of  ginger  and  cassia  ;  the  spume  of  the  reef  was 
pale  as  the  milk  of  the  cocoanuts,  and  the  blazing 
embers  on  shore  glowed  like  old  sacrificial  fires. 

Then  I  heard  a  voice  crying  out  of  the  shadow-^ 
an  ancient  and  eloquent  voice — saying:  "Behold 
my  fated  race !  Our  days  are  numbered.  Long 
have  we  feasted  in  the  rich  presence  of  a  revealed 
deity.  We  sat  in  ashes  under  the  mute  gods  of 
Baal ;  we  fled  before  the  wrath  of  Moloch,  the  de- 
stroyer ;  we  were  as  mighty  as  the  four  winds  of 
heaven  ;  but  the  profane  hand  of  the  Iconoclast  has 
desecrated  our  temples,  and  humbled  our  majesty  in 
the  dust.  O  impious  breakers  of  idols !  Why  will 
ye  put  your  new  wines  into  these  old  bottles,  that 
were  shaped  for  spring  waters  only,  and  not  for  wine 
at  all !  Lo !  ye  have  broken  them,  and  the  wine  is 
wasted.  Be  satisfied,  and  depart !  " 

So  that  spirit  of  air  sang  the  death-song  of  his 
tribe,  and  the  sad  music  of  his  voice  rang  over  the 
waters  like  a  lullaby. 

Then  I  heard  no  more,  and  I  said,  "  My  asylum 
is  the  great  world  ;  my  refuge  is  in  oblivion  ;  "  and 
I  turned  my  face  seaward,  never  again  to  dream 
fondly  of  my  island  home  ;  never  again  to  know  it 
as  I  have  known  it ;  never  again  to  look  upon  its 
serene  and  melancholy  beauty  :  for  the  soul  of  tho 
beloved  is  transmitted  to  the  vales  of  rest,  and  his 
ashes  are  sown  in  the  watery  furrows  of  the  deep 
sea! 


TABOO— A  FETE-DAY  IN  TAHITI 


IT  was  on  one  of  those  vagabond  pilgrimages  to 
nowhere  in  particular,  such  as  every  stranger  ii 
bound    to    make  in   a   strange    land,   that  I   first 
stumbled  upon  my  royal  Jester,  better  known  in  Ta« 
hiti  as  Taboo. 

Great  Jove  !  what  a  night  it  was  !  A  wild  ravine 
full  of  banyan  and  pandanus  trees,  and  of  para- 
site climbers,  and  the  thousand  nameless  leafing 
and  blossoming  creatures  that  intermarry  to  such 
an  alarming  extent  in  the  free  -  loving  tropics 
had  tempted  me  to  pasture  there  for  a  little  while. 
I  was  wandering  on  among  roots  and  trailing 
branches,  and  under  ropes  upon  ropes  of  flowers 
that  seemed  to  swing  suddenly  across  my  path  on 
purpose  to  keep  me  from  finding  too  easily  the  se- 
cret heart  of  the  mountain.  I  felt  it  was  right  that 
I  should  be  made  to  realize  how  sacred  a  spot  that 
sanctuary  of  Nature  was,  but  I  fretted  somewhat  at 
the  persistency  of  those  speechless  sentinels  who 
guarded  its  outer  door  so  faithfully.  There  was  a 
waterfall  within,  that  I  had  prayed  to  see — one  of 
those  mysterious  waterfalls  that  descend  noiselessly 
from  the  bosom  of  a  cloud,  stealing  over  cushions  ei 


TABOO— A   FILTE-DAY  IN  TAHITI          71 

moss,  like  a  ray  of  light  in  a  dream,  or  something 
else  equally  intangible. 

You  never  find  this  sort  of  waterfall  in  the  com- 
mon way.  No  one  can  exactly  point  it  out  to  you  ; 
but  you  must  search  for  it  yourself,  and  listen  for  its 
voice — and  usually  listen  in  vain — till,  suddenly, 
you  come  upon  it  in  a  moment,  almost  as  if  by  acci- 
dent ;  and  its  whole  quivering  length  glitters  and 
glistens  with  jewels,  where  it  hangs,  like  a  necklace, 
on  the  bosom  of  a  great  cliff.  It  is  the  only  visible 
chain  that  binds  earth  to  heaven  ;  and  no  wonder 
you  gaze  at  it  with  questioning  eyes  ! 

Well,  while  I  was  looking  about  me,  expecting 
every  moment  to  feel  the  damp  breath  of  the  water- 
fall upon  my  forehead,  night  came  down.  Where 
was  I  ?  In  the  midst  of  a  pathless  forest ;  between 
cliffs  whose  sleek,  mossy  walls  were  so  steep  as  to 
forbid  even  the  goat's  sharp  hoof.  Down  the  hollow 
of  the  ravine,  among  round,  slippery  rocks,  and 
between  trellises  of  giant  roots,  tumbled  a  mountain 
torrent.  No  human  form  visible,  probably  none  to 
be  looked  for  on  that  side  of  the  inaccessible  dome 
of  the  mountain  ;  yet  fearlessly  I  toiled  on,  know- 
ing that  food  and  shelter  were  on  every  side,  and 
that  no  hand,  whose  clasp  was  as  fervent  as  the  clasp 
of  the  vine  itself,  would  be  raised  against  me  ;  and, 
thank  Heaven  !  outsiders  were  scarce. 

In  the  midst  of  the  narrowing  chasm,  with  the 
night  thickening,  and  the  wood  growing  more  and 
more  objectionable,  I  heard  a  sound  as  of  stumbling 
feet  before  me.  My  first  thought  was  of  color  !  I 


72  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

would  scarcely  trust  a  White  Man  in  that  predica- 
ment. What  well-disposed  White  would  be  prowl- 
ing, like  a  wild  animal,  alone  in  a  forest  at  night  ? 
It  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  white,  or  had  passed  as 
such ;  but  I  know  and  have  always  known  that,  in- 
wardly, I  am  purple-blooded,  and  supple-limbed, 
and  invisibly  tattooed  after  the  manner  of  my  lost 
tribe  !  I  was  startled  at  the  sound,  and  slackened 
my  pace  to  listen  :  the  footsteps  paused  with  mine. 
I  plunged  forward,  accusing  the  Echoes  of  playing 
me  false.  Again  the  mysterious  one  rushed  awk- 
wardly on  before  me,  with  footfalls  that  were  not 
like  mine,  nor  like  any  that  I  could  trace  :  they  were 
neither  brute  nor  human,  but  fell  clumsily  among 
the  roots  and  stones,  out  of  time  with  me  ;  there- 
fore, no  echo,  and  beyond  my  reckoning  entirely. 

At  this  hour  the  moon,  of  a  favorable  size,  looked 
over  the  cliff,  flooding  the  chasm  with  her  soft  light. 
I  rejoiced  at  it,  and  hoped  for  a  revelation  of  the 
Unknown,  whose  tottering  steps  had  mocked  mine 
for  half  an  hour. 

We  were  in  the  midst  of  a  dense  grove  of  bread- 
fruit-trees. Scarcely  a  ray  of  light  penetrated  their 
thick-woven  branches ;  but,  against  the  faint  light 
of  the  open  distance,  I  marked  the  weird  outline  of 
one  who  might  once  have  been  human,  but  was  no 
longer  a  tolerable  image  of  his  Maker.  The  figure  was 
like  the  opposite  halves  of  two  men  bodily  joined 
together  in  an  amateur  attempt  at  human  graft- 
ing. The  trunk  was  curved  the  wrong  way  ;  a  great 
shoulder  bullied  a  little  shoulder,  and  kept  it  decid- 


TABOO— A   F&TE-DA  Y  IN'  TAHITI         73 

edly  under  ;  a  long  leg  walked  right  around  a  short 
leg  that  was  perpetually  sitting  itself  down  on  invisi- 
ble seats,  or  swinging  itself  for  the  mere  pleasure  of 
it.  One  arm  clutched  a  ten-foot  bamboo  about  three 
inches  in  diameter,  and  wielded  it  as  though  it  were 
a  bishop's  crook,  and  something  to  be  proud  of ;  the 
other  arm — it  must  have  belonged  to  a  child  when 
it  stopped  growing — was  hooked  up  over  one  ear, 
looking  as  though  it  had  been  badly  wired  by  some 
medical  student,  and  was  worn  as  a  lasting  reproach 
to  him.  A  shaggy  head  was  set  on  the  down-slope 
of  the  big  shoulder,  and  seemed  to  be  continually 
looking  over  the  little  shoulder  and  under  the  little 
arm  for  some  one  always  expected,  but  who  was  very 
long  in  coming. 

Upon  this  startling  discovery  I  turned  to  flee,  but 
the  figure  immediately  followed.  It  was  evidently 
too  late  to  escape  an  interview,  and,  taking  heart,  I 
walked  toward  it,  when,  to  my  amazement,  it  hastily 
staggered  away  from  me,  looking  always  over  its 
shoulder,  quickening  its  pace  with  mine,  slackening 
its  speed  with  me,  and  keeping,  or  seeking  to  keep, 
within  a  certain  distance  of  me  all  the  while.  My 
curiosity  was  excited,  and,  as  I  saw  it  bore  me  no 
ill-will,  I  made  a  quick  plunge  forward,  hoping  to 
capture  it.  With  an  energetic  effort  it  strove  to 
escape  me  ;  but,  with  the  head  turned  the  wrong 
way,  it  stumbled  blindly  into  a  bit  of  jungle,  where 
it  lay  whining  piteously.  I  assisted  it  to  its  feet, 
with  what  caution  and  tenderness  I  could,  and,  find- 
ing it  still  wary,  walked  on  slowly,  leading  the  way 


74  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

to  the  edge  of  the  grove,  where  the  moonlight  was 
almost  as  radiant  as  the  dawn.  It  followed  me  like 
a  dog,  and  was  evidently  grateful  for  my  company. 
I  walked  slowly  that  it  might  not  stumble,  and,  as 
we  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the  breadfruits,  I 
manoeuvred  so  as  to  bring  its  face  toward  the  moon- 
light, and  I  saw  —  a  hideous  visage,  with  all  its 
features  sliding  to  one  corner  ;  and  nothing  but  the 
two  soft,  sleepy-looking  eyes  saved  me  from  yielding 
to  the  disgust  that  its  whole  presence  awakened.  As 
it  was,  I  involuntarily  started  back  with  a  shudder, 
and  a  slight  exclamation  that  attracted  its  attention. 
"  Taboo !  Taboo  !  "  moaned  the  poor  creature,  half 
in  introduction,  half  in  apology  and  explanation. 

He  was  well  named  the  "  forbidden  one  : "  set 
apart  from  all  his  fellows ;  incapable  of  utterance  ; 
maimed  in  body  ;  an  outcast  among  his  own  peo- 
ple ;  homeless,  yet  at  home  everywhere  ;  friendless, 
though  welcomed  by  all  for  his  entertaining  and 
ludicrous  simplicity  ;  feeding,  like  the  birds,  from 
Nature's  lap,  and,  like  the  birds,  left  to  the  winds 
and  waters  for  companionship. 

Somehow  I  felt  that  Taboo  could  lead  me  at  once 
to  the  waterfall ;  and  I  tried  to  seek  out  the  small 
door  to  his  brain,  and  impress  him  with  my  anxiety 
to  reach  the  place.  Oh,  what  darkness  was  there,  and 
what  doubts  and  fears  seemed  to  cloud  the  hidden 
portals  of  his  soul !  He  made  an  uncouth  noise  for 
me.  Perhaps  he  meant  it  as  music  :  it  was  frightful 
to  hear  it  up  there  in  the  mountain  solitudes.  He 
got  me  fruits  and  a  little  water  in  the  palm  of  his 


TABOO — A   F&TE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI         ?$ 

hand,  which  he  expected  me  to  drink  with  a  relish. 
He  lay  down  at  my  feet  in  a  broken  heap  of  limbs, 
crooning  complacently.  He  was  playful  and  thought- 
ful alternately ;  at  least,  he  lost  himself  in  long  si- 
lences from  time  to  time,  while  his  eyes  glowed  with 
a  deep  inward  light,  that  almost  made  me  hope 
to  startle  his  reason  from  its  dreadful  sleep  ;  but  a 
single  word  broke  the  spell,  and  set  him  to  laugh- 
ing as  though  he  would  go  all  to  pieces  ;  and  his  joy 
was  more  pitiful  than  his  sorrow. 

In  one  of  his  silent  moods  he  suddenly  staggered 
to  his  feet,  and  shambled  into  a  narrow  trail  to  one 
side  of  the  gorge.  I  wondered  at  his  unexpected 
impulse,  and  feared  that  he  had  grown  tired  of  me 
already,  preferring  the  society  of  his  feathered  com- 
rades, a  few  of  whom  sounded  their  challenge-note, 
that  soared  like  silver  arrows  in  the  profound  still* 
ness  of  the  ravine.  It  seemed  not,  however:  in  a 
few  moments  he  returned,  and  signalled  me  with 
his  expressive  grunt,  and  I  followed  him.  Through 
thickets  of  fern,  arching  high  over  our  heads,  down 
spongy  dells,  and  over  rims  of  rock  jutting  from  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  Taboo  and  I  clambered  in  the 
warm  moonlight.  Anon  we  came  upon  a  barricade 
of  bamboos,  growing  like  pickets  set  one  against 
another.  I  know  not  how  broad  the  thicket  might 
have  been — possibly  as  broad  as  the  ravine  itself — 
but  into  the  thick  of  it  Taboo  edged  himself ;  and 
close  upon  his  heels  I  followed.  In  a  few  moments 
we  had  crushed  our  way  through  the  midst  of  the 
bamboos,  that  clashed  together  after  us  so  that  a 


J6  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

bird  might  not  have  tracked  us,  and  lo !  a  crystal 
pool  in  the  heart  of  a  wonderful  garden  ;  and  to  it, 
sileutly,  from  heaven  itself  descended  that  mysteri- 
ous waterfall  whose  actual  existence  I  had  seriously 
begun  to  question.  It  lay  close  against  the  breast 
of  the  mountain,  strangely  pale  in  the  full  glow  of 
the  moon,  while,  like  a  vein  of  fire,  it  seemed  to 
throb  from  end  to  end  ;  or,  like  a  shining  thread 
with  great  pearls  slipping  slowly  down  its  full  length, 
taking  the  faint  hues  of  the  rainbow  as  they  fell, 
playing  at  prisms,  until  my  eyes,  weary  of  watching, 
closed  of  their  own  accord.  I  sank  down  by  Taboo, 
who  was  sleeping  soundly  in  the  hollow  of  a  great 
tree  ;  and  the  one  cover  for  both  of  us  was  the  im- 
penetrable shadow  that  is  never  lifted  from  that 
silent  sanctuary  of  the  Most  High. 

The  sky  was  as  saffron  when  we  woke  from  our 
out-of-door  sleep,  and  the  whole  atmosphere  was  less 
poetical  and  impressive  than  on  the  night  previous. 
Stranger  than  all  else,  there  was  no  visible  trace  of 
the  mysterious  waterfall  I  even  began  to  quesk 
tion  my  own  senses,  and  thought  it  possible  that  I 
had  been  dreaming.  Yet  there  sat  Taboo  in  his 
frightful  imperfection,  as  happy  and  indifferent  as 
possible.  Of  course,  he  could  tell  me  nothing  of  the 
magical  waters.  He  had  doubtless  already  forgotten 
the  episode  of  the  hour  previous.  He  lived  for  the 
solitary  moment,  and  his  mind  seemed  unable  to 
grasp  the  secrets  of  ten  seconds  on  either  side  of  his 
naiTow  present.  In  fact,  he  was  playing  with  a 
splendid  lizard  when  I  returned  from  my  brief  and 


TABOO — A   F&TE-DA  Y  IN"  TAHITI         TJ 

fruitless  reconnoissance ;  and  as  I  came  up  he 
wondered  at  me,  as  he  never  ceased  to  wonder,  with 
fresh  bewilderment,  whenever  I  came  back  to  him, 
after  never  so  brief  an  absence. 

I  soon  learned  to  play  upon  Taboo's  one  stop  ;  to 
point  a  finger  at  him,  and  bore  imaginary  auger- 
holes  right  into  him  anywhere  ;  for  he  always 
winced  and  whined,  like  a  very  baby,  and  yielded  at 
once  to  my  pantomimic  suggestion.  But  what  a 
wreck  was  here !  A  delicate  instrument,  full  of  rifts 
and  breakages,  with  that  single  key  readily  answer- 
able to  the  slightest  touch  of  my  will.  I  have  often 
wished  that  it  had  been  a  note  more  deep,  profound, 
or  sympathetic.  It  was  simply  merry  and  shrill,  and 
incapable  of  any  modulation  whatever.  Point  a 
finger  at  him,  make  a  few  coils  in  the  air  that  grow 
to  a  focus  as  they  draw  nearer  to  him,  and  he  would 
run  over  with  uncontrollable  jollity  that  was  at  times 
a  little  painful  in  its  boisterousness. 

I  knew  well  enough  that  I  had  sucked  the  honey 
from  that  particular  cell  in  the  mountain,  and  that  I 
might  as  well  resume  my  pilgrimage.  There  was  to 
be  a  Fete  Napoleon  in  Papeete.  We  hadn't  heard, 
up  to  that  hour,  of  the  wreck  of  the  great  Empire, 
and,  being  in  a  loyal  French  colony,  it  behooved  us 
to  have  the  very  best  time  possible.  Said  I  to  my- 
self, "  Taboo  will  find  sufficient  food  for  merriment 
in  our  mode  of.  feting  an  emperor  ;  therefore  Taboo 
shall  go  with  me  to  town  and  enjoy  himself."  I  sug- 
gested an  immediate  adjournment  to  Papeete  with 
the  tip  of  my  forefinger,  whereat  Taboo  doubled  up, 


78  SOUTH- SEA  IDYLS 

as  usual,  and  in  his  own  fashion    implored  me  to 
stop  being  so  funny.     We  at  once  started  ;  return 
ing  through  the  bamboo-brakes,  fording  the  stream 
in  some  awkward  way,  and  slowly  working  our  pas- 
sage back  to  town. 

The  Tahitians  have  but  one  annual  holiday.  As 
this,  however,  is  seventy-two  hours  in  length,  while 
everything  relating  to  it  is  broad  in  proportion,  it  is 
about  as  much  as  they  can  conscientiously  ask  for. 

Taboo  and  I  entered  the  town  on  the  eve  of  the 
first  day,  together  with  multitudes  from  the  neigh- 
boring districts,  flocking  thither  in  their  best  clothes. 
The  lovely  bay  of  Papeete  was  covered  with  fleets  of 
canoes,  hailing  from  all  the  seaside  villages  on  the 
island,  and  many  of  them  from  Moorea,  and  islands 
even  more  distant.  No  sea  is  too  broad  to  be  com- 
passed by  an  ambitious  Kanack,  who  scents  a  festi- 
val from  afar. 

Along  the  crescent  shores  of  the  bay  the  canoes 
were  heaped,  tier  upon  tier.  It  was  as  though  a 
whole  South  Sea  navy  had  been  stranded,  for  the 
town  was  crowded  with  canoe-boys  and  all  manner 
of  natives,  in  gala  dress.  The  incessant  rolling  of 
drums,  the  piping  of  bamboo-flutes,  and  the  cho- 
ruses of  wandering  singers  began  early  in  the  dawn 
of  August  14th,  and  were  expected  to  continue, 
uninterruptedly,  to  the  evening  of  the  16th.  Taboo 
regarded  it  all  with  singular  indifference.  Every- 
body seemed  to  know  him,  and  to  take  particular 
delight  in  greeting  him.  His  sleepy  disregard  of 
them  was  considered  extremely  laughable,  and  they 


TABOO-— A   FETE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI          79 

went  their  way  roaring  with  merriment,  that  con- 
trasted strongly  with  the  grave,  listless  face  of  the 
simple  one,  who  was  apparently  oblivious  of  every- 
thing. 

The  morning  after  we  appeared  in  Papeete  was 
Sunday,  according  to  the  calendar.  The  little  Cathe- 
dral, with  banana-leaves  rustling  in  the  open  win- 
dows, was  thronged  with  worshippers  of  all  colors, 
doubly  devout  in  the  excessive  heat.  Various  choirs 
relieved  one  another  during  mass,  and  some  diminu- 
tive fellows,  under  ten  years  of  age,  chanted  Latin 
hymns  in  a  pleasingly  plaintive  voice,  led  by  a  friar 
in  long  clothes  and  a  choker.  Taboo  crouched  by 
the  open  door  during  service,  raking  the  gravel- walk 
with  his  crooked  fingers,  and  hitching  about  with 
indefatigable  industry.  After  the  last  gospel,  we  all 
went  into  the  middle  of  the  street — for  there  were 
no  sidewalks — and  got  our  boots  very  dusty.  Lit- 
tle knots  of  friends  seemed  to  sit  down  in  the 
way  wherever  they  pleased,  and  to  talk  as  long  as 
they  liked  ;  while  everybody  else  accommodatingly 
turned  out  for  them,  or  paused  and  listened  to  the 
conversation,  without  embarrassment  on  either  side. 
Liquor  was  imbibed  on  the  sly ;  some  eyes  were 
beginning  to  swim  perceptibly,  and  some  tongues 
to  wag  faster  and  looser  than  ever.  The  Admiral's 
flagship  was  one  pyramid  of  gorgeous  bunting,  and 
his  band  delighted  a  great  audience,  gathered  upon 
the  shore,  with  a  matinee  gratis.  At  sunset  the  im- 
perial batteries  belched  their  sulphurous  thunder, 
that  came  as  near  to  breaking  the  Sabbath  as  pos- 


80  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

sible.  In  the  evening  more  music,  up  at  the  Gov- 
ernor's garden — waltzes,  polkas,  and  quadrilles,  so 
brilliantly  executed  that  the  listeners  were  half  mad 
with  delight ;  and  you  couldn't  for  the  life  of  you 
tell  what  day  it  had  been,  nor  what  night  it  was, 
but  Sunday  was  positively  set  down  against  it  in  the 
calendar.  At  10  P.M.  a  signal-gun  says  "  Good- 
night "  to  the  citizens  of  Papeete,  and  it  behooves 
all  those  who  are  dark-skinned  to  retire  instantly, 
on  pain  of  arrest  and  a  straw-heap  in  the  calaboose. 
In  the  midst  of  our  Sunday  festival,  while  yet  the 
streets  were  hilarious,  slap-bang  went  this  impudent 
piece  of  ordnance,  and  at  once  the  crowd  began  to 
disperse  in  the  greatest  confusion.  Taboo,  who  had 
been  an  inanimate  spectator  during  the  day's  diver- 
sions, seemed  to  comprehend  the  necessity  of  hasty 
flight  to  some  quarter  or  other  ;  and,  with  a  con- 
fusion of  ideas  peculiar  to  him,  he  began  careering 
in  great  circles  through  the  swaying  multitudes,  and 
continued  to  revolve  around  an  uncertain  centre, 
until  I  seized  him  and  sought  to  pilot  him  to  some 
convenient  place  of  shelter.  I  thought  of  the  great 
market  that,  like  those  ancient  cities  of  refuge,  was 
always  open  to  the  benighted  wanderer  ;  and  thither 
we  hastened.  A  lofty  roof,  covering  a  good  part  of 
a  block,  kept  the  rain  from  a  vast  enclosure,  stored 
with  stalls,  tables,  and  benches.  It  was  simply  shel- 
ter of  the  barest  kind,  but  sufficient  for  all  needs  in 
that  charitable  climate.  There  was  a  buzzing  of 
turbulent  throngs  as  we  edged  our  way  toward  the 
centre  of  the  market-place  ;  you  would  think  that 


TABOO— A   F&TE-DAY  IN  TAHITI         8 1 

all  the  bees  of  Tahiti  were  swarming  in  unison,  from 
the  noise  thereof.  The  commotion  was  long  in 
quieting.  It  had  to  subside  like  the  sea  at  flood- 
tide.  Every  little  while  a  brace  of  gendarmes  strut- 
ted past  the  premises,  feeling  mighty  fine  in  their 
broad  white  pantaloons,  like  a  ship  with  studding-sails 
out,  and  with  those  comical  bobtails  sprouting  out 
of  the  small  of  their  backs.  I  know  that  Taboo  and 
I,  having  laid  ourselves  on  somebody's  counter, 
listened  and  nudged  each  other  for  two  or  three 
hours,  and  that  it  began  to  feel  like  morning  before 
there  was  sleep  enough  to  go  entirely  around  the 
establishment. 

The  man  who  is  the  first  to  wake  in  Papeete 
lights  his  lamp  and  goes  to  market.  As  soon  as  he 
makes  his  untimely  appearance,  the  community  be- 
gins to  stir ;  a  great  clatter  of  drowsy  voices  and 
dozens  of  yawns  are  the  symptoms  of  returning  day  ; 
and  in  ten  minutes  the  market  is  declared  open, 
though  it  is  still  deep  and  tranquil  starlight  over- 
head, with  not  a  trace  of  dawn  as  yet  visible. 

When  the  market  opens  before  3  A.M. — and  the 
hour  happens  to  be  the  blackest  of  the  four-and- 
twenty — it  is  highly  inconvenient  for  any  foreigner 
and  his  royal  jester  who  may  be  surreptitiously 
passing  the  night  upon  one  of  the  fruit  counters,  but 
there  is  no  help  for  them  ;  sleepy  heads  give  way  to 
fresh-gathered  bread-fruits  and  nets  of  fragrant  or- 
anges ;  bananas  are  swung  up  within  tempting  reach 
of  everybody  ;  all  sorts  of  natives  come  in  from  the 
four  quarters  of  the  Papeetean  globe,  with  back- 
6 


82  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

loads  of  miscellaneous  viands,  a  mat  under  one  arm, 
and  a  flaming  torch  in  hand.  Rows  upon  rows  of 
girls  sell  fruits  and  flowers  to  the  highest  bidder  ; 
withering  old  women  haggle  over  the  prices  of  their 
perfumed  and  juicy  wares ;  solitary  men  offer  their 
solitary  strings  of  fish  for  a  real  each,  and  refuse  to 
be  beaten  down  by  any  wretch  of  a  fellow  who  dares 
to  insinuate  that  the  fish  are  a  trifle  too  scaly ;  boys 
sit  demurely  over  their  meagre  array  of  temptations 
in  the  shape  of  six  tomatoes,  three  eggs,  a  dozen  or 
so  of  guavas,  and  one  cucumber.  These  youngsters 
usually  sit  with  a  passionless  countenance  that  for- 
bids any  hope  of  a  bargain  at  reduced  prices,  and 
they  pass  an  hour  or  two  with  scarce  a  suggestion  of 
custom;  but  it  is  suddenly  discovered  that  they 
have  something  desirable,  and  a  dozen  purchasers 
begin  quarrelling  for  it,  during  which  time  some 
one  else  quietly  makes  his  purchase  from  one  corner 
of  the  boy's  mat ;  and,  having  closed  out?  his  stock 
in  less  than  ten  minutes,  he  quickly  pockets  his  reales, 
and  departs  without  having  uttered  a  syllable. 

Taboo  and  I  went  from  one  mat  to  another, 
eying  the  good  things  for  breakfast.  I  offered  him 
the  best  that  the  market  afforded  ;  and  I  could  eas- 
ily do  so,  for  in  no  land  is  the  article  cheaper  of 
better.  Taboo,  having  made  the  circuit  of  the  en- 
tire establishment,  upon  mature  deliberation  con- 
cluded to  take  nothing.  At  every  point  he  was 
greeted  uproariously  by  the  noisy  and  good- 
natured  people,  who  were  willing  to  give  him  any- 
thing he  might  choose  to  take.  They  probably 


TABOO— A   FETE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI          83 

felt  that  it  was  worth  more  than  the  price  of  the  ar- 
ticle to  see  the  sublime  scorn  on  the  poor  fellow's 
face  as  he  declined  their  limes,  feis,  mangoes,  or 
whatever  delicious  morsel  it  might  have  been.  As 
for  me,  I  couldn't  resist  those  seductions.  I  made 
my  little  purchases  and  withdrew  to  the  seaside, 
where  I  could  break  my  fast  by  sunrise,  and  enjoy 
comparative  quiet.  Taboo  grinned  in  the  market- 
place  till  he  was  weary  of  the  applause  showered 
upon  him  by  the  ungodly,  who  made  light  of  his  ir- 
reparable misfortune  and  took  pleasure  in  his  misery. 
He  hunted  me  up,  or,  rather,  stumbled  upon  me 
again,  and  stayed  by  me,  amusing  himself  by  pelting 
the  fish  that  sported,  like  sunbeams  and  prisms,  in 
the  sea  close  at  our  feet. 

It  was/ete-day  in  Tahiti.  I  sat,  at  sunrise,  by  the 
tideless  margin  of  a  South  Sea  lagoon,  bristling  with 
coral  and  glittering  with  gem-like  fish ;  in  either 
hand  I  held  a  mango  and  banana.  I  raised  the 
mango  to  my  lips.  What  a  marvel  it  was  !  A 
plump  vegetable  egg,  full  of  delusion,  and  stuffed 
with  a  horny  seed  nearly  as  large  as  itself.  It  had 
a  fragrance  as  of  oils  and  syrups  ;  it  purged  sweet- 
scented  and  resinous  gums.  Its  hide  was,  perhaps, 
too  tough  for  convenience,  but  its  inner  lusciousness 
tempted  me  to  persevere  in  the  consumption  of  it. 
With  much  difficulty  I  broke  the  skin.  Honey  of 
Hymettus !  It  seemed  as  though  the  very  marrow 
of  the  tropics  were  about  to  intoxicate  my  palate. 
Alas,  for  the  hopes  of  youthful  inexperience  !  What 
was  so  fair  to  see  proved  but  a  meagre  mouthful  of 


84  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

saturated  wool  ;  that  colossal  and  horny  seed  as* 
serted  itself  everywhere.  The  more  I  strove  to 
handle  it  with  caution,  the  more  slippery  and  un- 
manageable it  became.  It  shot  into  my  beard,  it 
leaped  lightly  into  my  shirt-bosom,  and  skated  over 
the  palms  of  both  hands.  Small  rivulets  of  liquor 
trickled  down  my  sleeves,  making  disagreeable  pud- 
dles at  both  elbows.  My  fingers  were  webbed  to- 
gether in  a  glutinous  mass.  My  whole  front  was  in 
a  shocking  state  of  smear.  My  teeth  grew  weary  of 
combing  out  the  beguiling  threads  of  the  fruit. 
The  thing  seemed,  to  my  imagination,  a  small,  flat 
head,  covered  with  short,  blond  hair,  profusely  sat- 
urated with  some  sweet  sort  of  ointment,  that  I  had 
despaired  of  feasting  on  ;  and  I  was  not  sorry  when 
the  slippery  stone  sprang  out  of  my  grasp,  and  pep- 
pered itself  with  sea-sand. 

I  knew  that  there  still  remained  to  me  a  morsel 
that  was  of  itself  fit  food  for  the  gods.  I  poised 
aloft,  with  satisfaction,  the  rare-ripe  banana,  beauti- 
ful to  the  eye  as  a  nugget  of  purest  gold.  The 
pliant  petals  were  pouting  at  the  top  of  the  fruit.  I 
readily  turned  them  back,  forming  an  unique  and 
convenient  gilded  salver  for  the  column  of  flaky 
manna  that  was,  as  yet,  swathed  in  lace-like  folds. 
These  gauzy  ribbons  fell  from  it  almost  of  their  own 
accord,  and  hung  in  fleecy  festoons  about  it. 

Here  was  a  repast  of  singularly  appropriate 
mould,  being  about  the  size  of  a  respectable  mouth, 
and  containing  just  enough  mouthf uls  to  satisfy  tem- 
porarily the  appetite.  Not  a  morsel  of  it  but  was 


TABOO — A   FETE-DAY  IN1  TAHITI          85 

full  of  mellowness  and  sweet  flavor  and  fragrance. 
Not  an  atom  of  it  was  wasted  ;  for,  no  sooner  had  I 
thrown  aside  the  cool,  clean,  flesh-like  case,  than  it 
was  made  way  with  by  a  fowl,  that  had,  no  doubt, 
been  patiently  awaiting  that  abundant  feast. 

Mangoes  and  bananas  !  Their  very  names  smack 
of  shady  gardens,  that  know  no  harsher  premonition 
of  death  than  the  indolent  and  natural  decay  of  all 
things.  The  nostril  is  excited  with  the  thought  of 
them  ;  the  palate  grows  moist  and  yearns  for  them  ; 
and  the  soul  feasts  itself,  for  a  moment,  with  a 
memory  of  mangoes  and  bananas  past,  whose  per- 
fection was  but  another  proof  of  immortality,  since 
it  is  impossible  ever  to  forget  them  individually. 
Mangoes  and  bananas  !  the  prime  favorites  at 
Nature's  most  bountiful  board  ;  the  realization  of  a 
dream  of  the  orchards  of  the  Hesperides  ;  alike  ex- 
cellent, yet  so  vastly  dissimilar  in  their  excellences, 
it  seems  almost  incredible  that  the  same  beneficent 
Providence  can  have  created  the  two  fruits  ! 

It  was  the  memorable  15th  of  August,  1870  ;  but 
I  have  reason  to  believe  the  bananas  were  no  better 
on  that  particular  occasion  than  almost  always  in 
their  own  latitude.  The  15th  of  August — where 
was  the  Emperor  then  ?  I  forget  ;  I  know  that  we 
rejoiced  in  the  blissful  confidence  that  we  were  to 
have  a  grand  time  at  all  hazards.  There  were  guns 
at  sunrise  from  ship  and  shore  ;  a  grand  national 
procession  of  French  and  Tahitians  to  high-mass  at 
10.30  ;  guns — twenty-one  of  them — together  with 
the  ringing  of  bells,  and  a  salute  of  flags,  at  the  ele- 


86  SOUTH-SEA    IDYLS 

vation  of  the  host,  so  that  you  would  have  known 
the  supreme  moment  had  you  been  miles  away. 
Then  came  a  sumptuous  public  breakfast  for  the 
Frenchmen  ;  and  for  the  natives,  games  of  several 
sorts. 

Taboo  and  I,  having  properly  observed  the  more 
solemn  ceremonials  of  the  day,  gave  ourselves  up  to 
the  full  enjoyment  of  these  latter  diversions.  There 
was  a  greased  pole,  with  shining  cups  ;  and  flowing 
prints,  both  useful  and  ornamental,  hung  at  the  top 
of  it.  Several  naked  and  superbly  built  fellows 
shinned  up  it  with  infinite  difficulty,  and  were  so 
fatigued  when  they  got  there,  they  were  only  too 
Willing  to  clutch  the  first  article  within  reach,  which 
was,  of  course,  the  least  desirable,  and  scarcely  worth 
the  trouble  of  getting.  O,  such  magnificent  group- 
Ing  at  the  foot  of  the  pole,  as  the  athletes  shouldered 
one  another  in  a  sort  of  co-operative  experiment  at 
getting  up  sooner  ;  such  struggles  to  rise  a  little 
above  the  heads  of  the  impatient  climbers  beneath 
as  made  the  aspiring  Kanack  quite  pale  —  that  is, 
greenish  yellow  ;  such  losing  of  grips,  and  fainting 
of  hearts,  and  slidings  back  to  earth  in  the  midst 
of  taunts  and  jeers,  but  all  in  the  best  of  hu- 
mors and  the  hottest  of  suns!  such  novelties  as 
these  were  a  very  great  delight  to  Taboo  and  my- 
self. He,  however,  didn't  deign  to  laugh  heartily  ; 
he  merely  smiled  in  a  superior  manner  that  seemed 
to  imply  that  he  knew  of  something  that  was  twice 
as  much  fun  and  not  half  the  trouble,  but  he  didn't 
choose  to  disclose  it.  He  nearly  always  seemed  t<r 


TABOO — A   FETE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI          8? 

know  as  much  as  any  ten  of  us  ;  and  it  was  like  an 
assumption  of  innocence,  that  queer,  vacant  expres- 
sion of  his  face.  I'm  not  sure  that  he  was  not 
possessed  of  some  rare  instinct  beyond  our  compre- 
hension, which  was  to  him  an  abundant  compensa- 
tion for  the  fragmentary  body  he  was  obliged  to 
trundle  about. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  there  were  fresh  arrivals 
in  the  bay  :  two  mammoth  double  war-canoes,  of 
fifty  paddles  each,  came  in  from  a  remote  sea-dis- 
trict ;  they  were  the  very  sort  of  water-monsters 
that  went  out  to  greet  my  illustrious  predecessor, 
Captain  Cook,  nearly  a  century  ago.  Taboo  and 
I  were  only  too  glad  to  sit  meekly  among  the 
ten  thousand  spectators  that  blackened  the  great 
sweep  of  the  shore,  while  these  savages  matched 
their  prowess.  With  one  vigorous  plunge  of  the 
paddles  the  canoes  sprang  from  the  beach  into  the 
watery  arena.  How  strange  they  looked  !  Long, 
low  sides,  scarce  eight  inches  above  water,  and 
stained  like  fish-scales ;  big  yawning  jaws  in  their 
snakelike  heads,  and  the  tail  of  the  dragon  in  their 
wakes ;  every  man  of  the  hundred  stripped  to  the 
skin  and  bareheaded ;  their  brawny  bodies  glisten- 
ing in  the  sun  as  though  they  had  been  oiled,  while, 
with  mechanical  accuracy,  the  crews  beat  the  water 
with  their  paddles,  and  chanted  their  guttural 
chants,  with  the  sea  flashing  and  foaming  under 
them.  The  race  was  a  tie ;  perhaps  it  was  fortu- 
nate that  it  proved  so.  I  fear  if  one  crew  had  beaten 
the  other  crew  the  breadth  of  a  paddle,  that  other 


88  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

would  have  lain  to  and  eaten  that  one  right  under 
our  very  eyes.  They  had  their  songs  of  triumph, 
both  sounding  the  chorus,  during  which  they 
drummed  with  their  paddles  on  the  sides  of  their 
canoes,  till  the  frail  things  shivered  and  groaned 
in  genuine  misery.  Then  they  renewed  the  race, 
,  because  they  couldn't  possibly  be  still  for  a  moment ; 
and  they  looked  like  a  brace  of  mastodon  cen- 
tipedes trying  to  get  out  of  the  water,  with  death 
hissing  in  their  throats. 

1  The  evening  of  the  great  day  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  Taboo  and  I  again  went  out  into  the  narrow, 
green  lanes  of  Papeete,  seeking  what  we  might  de- 
vour with  all  our  eyes  and  ears.  They  were  very 
charming,  those  long  arbors  of  densely  leaved  trees, 
with  little  tropical  vignettes  set  in  the  farther  end 
of  them.  It  was  almost  like  getting  a  squint  through 
the  wrong  end  of  a  telescope,  pointed  toward  some 
fairy-land  or  other.  As  it  grew  dark,  a  thousand 
ready  hands  began  illuminating  the  avenues  that 
lead  to  the  Governor's  house.  Up  and  down  its 
deep  veranda  swung  ropes  of  lanterns  ;  and  as  the 
guards  at  the  garden-gate  presented  arms  at  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Admiral  or  some  distinguished  and 
decorated  foreigner,  the  strains  of  Strauss,  deli- 
ciously  played,  filled  the  illuminated  grove  with  an 
air  of  romance  that  was  very  Oriental  in  its  mellow- 
ness, and  quickened  every  foot  that  was  so  happy  as 
to  touch  the  soil  of  Tahiti  in  so  fortunate  an  hour. 
On  every  part  of  the  public  lawns  the  revels  were 
conducted  after  the  native  fashion.  Bands  of  singers 


TABOO — A  F&TE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI         89 

and  dancers  sang  and  danced  in  the  streets,  and 
were  frequently  rewarded  with  liberal  potations. 
Taboo  looked  on  as  amiably  as  usual,  and  for  some 
time  as  passively  also  ;  but  there  was  something  in- 
toxicating in  the  air,  and  it  began  to  have  a  visible 
effect  upon  him.  It  was  not  long  before  he  strove 
to  emulate  the  singers.  St.  Cecilia !  what  a  song 
was  his !  To  hear  that  royal  Jester  striving  to  tune 
his  inharmonious  voice  to  the  glib,  though  monot- 
onous, Tahitian  madrigals  was  beyond  my  power  of 
musical  endurance.  I  walked  away  by  myself,  or 
rather  went  into  another  part  of  the  village,  and 
sought  a  change  of  scene ;  for  there  was  no  seclu- 
sion to  be  hoped  for  on  a  fete-night. 

From  the  Governor's  halls  came  the  entrancing 
harmony  of  flutes  and  harps ;  from  every  lane  and 
alley  the  piping  of  nose-fifes  and  droning  of  nasal 
chorals  ;  from  the  sea  rolled  in  the  deep,  hoarse 
booming  of  the  reef,  the  rhythmical  plash  of  oars,  or 
the  clear,  prolonged  cry  of  some  one  in  the  watery 
distance  hailing  some  one  close  at  hand.  Even  so 
savage  and  picturesque  a  spectacle  as  this  grew 
wearisome  after  a  time,  and  I  turned  my  steps  to- 
ward a  place  of  shelter,  and  suggested  to  myself 
sleep. 

In  one  lane  was  a  throng  of  natives,  wilder  in 
their  demonstrations  of  joy  than  all  the  others.  My 
curiosity  was  excited,  and  I  hastened  to  join  them. 
Having  with  some  difficulty  wedged  my  way  into  the 
front  row  of  spectators,  I  beheld  the  subject  of  their 
riotous  applause.  In  the  centre  of  a  small  ring  was 


9O  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

an  ungainly  figure,  writhing  in  grotesque  contor- 
tions ;  tom-toms  were  being  beaten  with  diabolical 
energy  and  wildness ;  flutes  and  shrill  voices  were 
chiming  in  rapid  and  bewildering  chromatics  ;  the 
audience  —  the  half-crazed  and  utterly  inhuman  au- 
dience —  gloated  over  the  shocking  spectacle  with 
devilish  delight.  In  one  moment  I  comprehended 
all :  Taboo,  overcome  by  the  general  and  unusual 
excitement,  had  succumbed  to  its  depraving  in- 
fluences ;  and,  unable  longer  to  control  himself,  he 
was  broadly  burlesquing,  in  his  helplessness,  one  of 
the  national  dances.  Music  had  at  last  reached  his 
impenetrable  soul,  awakened  his  long-slumbering 
sympathies,  and  found  him  her  willing  slave.  A 
pity  that  some  diviner  strain  had  not  first  led  him 
captive,  that  he  might  have  been  spared  this  dis- 
grace ! 

I  saw  his  unhappy  body  ambling  to  the  shame  of 
all.  I  saw  those  pitiful,  unshapen  shoulders  undu- 
lating in  vain  attempts  at  passional  expression  ;  the 
helpless  arm  waving  at  every  movement  of  the  body, 
while  the  withered  hand  spun  like  a  whirligig  above 
his  ears  ;  his  eyes,  having  lost  their  accustomed  mild 
light,  stared  distractedly  about,  seeking  rescue  and 
protection,  as  I  thought.  In  a  few  moments  I  at- 
tracted his  notice,  though  he  seemed  but  partly  to 
recognize  me.  There  was  his  usual  uncertain  recog- 
nition grown  more  doubtful — nay,  even  hopeless — 
as  his  face  betrayed.  Again  I  caught  his  eye  :  I 
felt  that  but  one  course  was  left  me,  and  at  once  I 
aimed  my  finger  at  him.  He  winced  in  his  delirious 


TABOO — A   FETE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI         pi 

dance.  I  coiled  it  round  and  round,  weaving  airy 
circle  within  circle  ;  quicker  and  quicker  I  wove  my 
spell,  and  at  last  shot  the  whole  hand  at  him,  as 
though  I  would  run  him  through.  He  doubled,  like 
one  struck  with  a  fatal  blow,  and  went  to  the  ground 
all  of  a  senseless  heap.  There  was  a  disturbance  in 
the  audience.  Some  of  them  thought  I  had  be- 
witched Taboo  ;  and  it  behooved  me  to  go  at  once, 
rather  than  seek  to  make  explanation  of  the  singular 
result  of  my  presence  there.  I  went,  and  spent  a  dull 
night,  accusing  myself  of  being  the  possible  spiritual 
murderer  of  Taboo.  I  had  no  business  to  bring  him 
to  the  metropolis  at  that  unfortunate  season  ;  I  had 
no  right  to  leave  him  with  his  traducers  :  and  that 
was  the  whole  statement  of  the  case. 

The  last  day  of  the  fete  was,  of  course,  less  joyous 
to  me.  A  score  of  nameless  nags  were  to  be  ridden 
by  light  -  weights  in  breech  -  cloths  ;  and  I  sought 
consolation  in  the  prospect  of  seeing  some  bewitch- 
ing horsemanship.  The  track,  in  use  but  once 
every  twelvemonth,  and  yielding  annually  a  young 
orchard  of  guava-trees,  presented  to  the  astonished 
gaze  of  the  foreign  sporting-gentleman  who  hap- 
pened to  be  on  the  ground — if,  indeed,  there  was 
such  a  one  present — a  half-mile  course,  with  nu- 
merous stones  and  hollows  relieving  its  surface, 
while  the  rope  that  enclosed  it  kept  giving  way 
every  few  moments,  letting  in  a  mixed  multitude 
among  the  half-broken  horses. 

The  Queen  was  present  at  the  races — Pomare, 
whose  life  has  been  one  long,  sorrowful  romance ; 


92  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

the  Admiral  was  also  there  ;  and  many  a  petty  of- 
ficer, with  abundant  gilt  and  tinsel.  At  a  signal 
from  the  trumpeter  the  horses  were  entered  unan- 
nounced, and  everybody  fell  to  betting  wildly.  One 
little  African  jockey,  mounted  upon  the  cleverest 
piece  of  flesh  and  blood  in  the  field,  called  for  the 
larger  stakes  ;  and  he  would  certainly  have  won,  but 
for  an  unavoidable  accident :  the  little  African  was 
pressing  in  on  the  home  -  stretch,  and  everything 
looked  lovely  for  the  winning  mare,  when,  unluckily, 
she  put  her  nigh  leg  in  a  crab-hole,  and  snapped  her 
shin-bone  square  off.  The  undaunted  little  African 
tried  his  best  to  finish  the  heat  on  his  own  responsi- 
bility, and  went  off  into  the  air  in  fine  style,  but 
missed  his  calculation,  and  burrowed  about  three 
lengths  from  the  goal.  His  neck  was  driven  in 
nearly  up  to  the  ears,  and  the  mare  had  to  be  shot ; 
but  the  races  went  mercilessly  on  until  a  tremen- 
dous thunder-storm  flooded  the  track  and  washed 
the  population  back  to  town.  Dance  after  dance 
consumed  the  afternoon  hours ;  and  song  upon 
song,  eternally  reiterated,  finally  failed  to  create  any 
special  enthusiasm. 

I  saw  no  further  traces  of  Taboo.  Again  and 
again  I  followed  knots  of  the  curious  into  the  larger 
native  houses,  where  the  lascivious  dances  were  given 
with  the  utmost  abandon  ;  thither — I  suspected — 
Taboo  would  most  likely  be  impelled,  for  the  music 
was  wilder  and  the  applause  more  boisterous  and 
unrestrained. 

The  evening  of  the  last  day  of  tbef€te  was  dark- 


TABOO — A   FATE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI         93 

ening ;  most  people  were  growing  a  little  weary  of 
the  long-drawn  festivities  ;  many  had  succumbed  to 
their  fatigue,  and  slept  by  the  wayside,  or,  it  may 
be,  they  had  known  too  well  the  nature  of  the 
Tahitian  juices,  such  as  no  man  may  drink  and  not 
fall! 

The  palace  of  Pomare — a  great,  hollow,  incom- 
plete shell,  whose  windows  have  never  been  glazed, 
and  whose  doors  have  never  been  hung — was  the 
scene  of  the  concluding  ceremonials  of  the  season. 
The  long  verandas  were  thickly  hung  with  number- 
less paper-lanterns,  swinging  continually  in  the  soft 
night-winds  that  stole  down  from  the  star-lit  slopes 
of  Fautahua ;  the  broad  lawns  in  front  of  the  palace 
were  blocked  out  in  squares,  like  the  map  of  a  lili- 
putian  city.  Each  one  of  these  plats  was  set  apart 
for  a  band  of  singers,  and  there  were  as  many  bands 
as  districts  in  Tahiti  and  Moorea,  together  with  del- 
egations from  islands  more  remote.  Soon  the  chor- 
uses began  to  assemble.  Choirs  of  fifty  voices  each, 
male  and  female,  led  by  tight-headed  drums  and 
screaming  fifes,  drew  toward  the  palace-gardens, 
and  were  formally  admitted  by  the  proper  authori- 
ties, who  were  very  much  swollen  with  the  pomp  of 
office  and,  perhaps,  a  little  sprinkle  of  the  exhilarat- 
ing accompaniments  of  the  season.  One  after  an- 
other the  white-robed  processions  approached — each 
fresh  arrival  looking  more  like  the  chorus  in  "  Nor- 
ma  "  than  the  last,  though  it  then  seemed  impossi- 
ble that  any  Druid  could  presume  to  appear  more 
gracefully  ghostlike.  Each  singer  wore  a  plume  of 


94  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

cocoa-leaves,  whose  feathers  were  more  lovely  than 
the  downy  wands  of  the  ostrich.  They  were  made 
of  knots  of  long,  slender  ribbons,  softer  than  satin, 
veined  like  clouded  silver,  as  transparent  as  the 
clearest  isinglass,  and  as  delicate  as  the  airiest 
gauze. 

Out  of  the  core  of  the  palm-tree,  in  the  midst  of 
its  rich,  dark  mass  of  foliage,  springs  a  tuft  of  leaves 
as  tender  as  the  first  sprouts  of  a  lily-bulb.  These 
budding  leaves  are  carefully  removed,  split  edge- 
wise, and  the  enamelled  sheets  laid  open  to  the  sun  ; 
then,  with  the  thumb-nail,  passed  skilfully  over  the 
inner  surface,  a  filmy  membrane  is  separated,  and 
spread  in  the  air  to  dry.  A  single  tree  yields  but  a 
small  cluster  of  these  pale,  cloud -like  leaves,  scarcely 
a  handful  in  all,  yet  the  tree  withers  when  they 
pluck  the  heart  of  it.  It  is  the  very  soul  of  the 
Southern  palm,  with  every  leaf  spiritualized,  and 
looking  vapory  as  tangible  moonlight. 

The  leader  of  the  concert  having  challenged  the 
choruses  from  the  veranda  of  the  palace,  at  once 
twenty  choirs  struck  into  their  particular  anthem 
with  the  utmost  zeal.  A  discord  about  six  acres  in 
extent  was  the  result.  It  seemed  as  though  each 
choir  was  seeking  whom  it  might  drown  out  with 
superior  vocal  compass  and  volume.  With  much 
difficulty  the  several  bands  of  singers  were  persuaded 
to  await  their  turn  for  a  solo  effort  that  might  be 
listened  to  with  no  small  degree  of  pleasure.  From 
time  to  time,  during  the  entire  evening,  some  ob- 
streperous chorus  would  break  loose,  spite  of  every 


TABOO-^A   FETE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI         95 

precaution  ;  and  it  had  always  to  sing  itself  out  be- 
fore order  could  be  restored.  Taboo  would  have 
thoroughly  enjoyed  those  two  thousand  singers, 
each  singing  his  or  her  favorite  roundelay,  inde- 
pendent of  all  laws  of  time  and  melody.  He  might 
have  been  there,  as  it  was,  offering  his  inharmoni- 
ous chant  with  the  mob  of  contestants. 

By  the  time  the  series  of  prize-songs  had  been 
sung,  the  sky  grew  cloudy,  and  the  torches  began  to 
flicker  in  the  increasing  wind  ;  a  few  great  drops  of 
rain  spat  down  in  the  midst  of  the  singers,  and  the 
reef  moaned  loudly,  like  the  baying  of  signal-guns. 
It  was  ominous  of  coming  storms.  At  the  climax  of 
a  choral  revolution,  in  which  every  man's  voice 
seemed  raised  against  his  neighbor's,  a  roar  as  of 
approaching  armies  was  heard,  mingled  with  the 
accompanying  crash  of  artillery.  A  sudden  puff  of 
wind  extinguished  the  major  part  of  the  torches,  and 
wrecked  many  of  the  lanterns  in  the  palace  porch. 
It  was  simply  a  tropical  shower  in  all  its  magnifi- 
cence ;  but  it  was  enough !  The  fHe  concluded 
then  and  there,  in  the  promptest  manner.  The  nar- 
row streets  of  Papeete  were  clogged  with  retreat- 
ing hosts,  who  continually  shouted  a  sort  of  general 
adieu  to  everybody,  as  they  gathered  their  skirts 
about  them  and,  with  shoes  in  hand,  turned  their 
bare  feet  homeward. 

Since  the  end  had  at  last  come,  and  I  had  no 
further  claims  upon  the  people,  nor  the  people  up- 
on me — if,  indeed,  either  of  us  were  ever  anything 
in  particular  to  one  another  —  I  drifted  with  the 


96  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

majority,  and  soon  found  myself  in  the  suburban 
wilderness  that  girdles  the  small  capital  of  the 
queendom.  I  wandered  on  till  the  noise  of  the  rev- 
ellers grew  more  and  more  indistinct.  They  were 
scattering  themselves  over  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  island,  carrying  their  songs  with  them.  Now 
and  then  a  fresh  gust  of  wind  bore  down  to  me  an 
echo  of  a  refrain  that  had  grown  familiar  during  the 
days  of  ihefdte,  and  will  not  soon  be  forgotten  ;  but 
the  past  was  rapidly  fading,  and  the  necessities  of 
the  future  began  to  present  themselves  with  unusual 
boldness.  Instinctively  I  turned  to  the  winding 
trail  that  once  before  had  led  me  toward  that  mys- 
terious mountain  sacristy,  over  whose  font  fell  the 
spiritual  and  dreamlike  rivulet  whose  baptismal  vir- 
tues Taboo  and  I  had  sought  together.  I  felt  cer- 
tain that  I  could  find  it  without  guidance  ;  for  the 
broken  clouds  let  slip  such  floods  of  moonlight  as 
made  day  of  darkness,  and  rendered  the  smallest 
landmark  easily  distinguishable. 

I  paused  for  rest  in  the  breadfruit  grove  where 
first  I  met  with  my  weird  companion.  Presently  I 
resumed  my  pilgrimage,  wending  my  way  toward 
the  slender  path  that  led  through  fern,  forest,  and 
bamboo-jungle,  to  the  crystal  lake  and  waterfall.  In 
vain  I  sought  it ;  the  slightest  traces  of  the  trail 
seemed  obliterated.  I  wandered  up  and  down  the 
winding  way,  till  I  was  in  despair  of  finding  the 
slightest  clew  to  the  mystery.  I  sat  down  and 
thought  how  a  slight  accident  of  forgetfulness  was 
lending  a  sense  of  enchantment  to  the  whole  valley, 


TABOO — A   F&TE-DA  Y  IN  TAHITI         97 

when  I  heard  a  stumbling  step,  too  marked  to  be 
soon  forgotten.  I  crept  into  a  shadow,  and  awaited 
the  approach  of  the  solitary  wanderer.  How  he 
tottered  as  he  drew  near  !  He  seemed  to  have  lost 
part  of  his  small  skill  since  I  last  saw  him.  He  wag 
laughing  quietly  to  himself  while  he  journeyed  : 
perhaps  some  memory  of  the  fete  still  pleased  him. 
He  passed  me  unconscious  of  my  presence.  I  ran 
cautiously,  and  followed  him  at  a  safe  distance. 
We  threaded  the  old  path,  by  stream  and  cliff  and 
brake,  and,  after  a  little,  reached  the  secluded  and 
silent  borders  of  the  lake.  Once  or  twice  he  had 
heard  me  as  I  brushed  past  the  bamboos  or  a  twig 
snapped  under  foot,  but  those  forest  sounds  scarcely 
disconcerted  him  ;  he  was  too  well  used  to  them. 
He  paused  at  the  margin  of  the  lake,  stooped 
awkwardly  and  drank  of  it,  went  a  little  to  one  side 
where  an  outlet  fed  the  torrent  we  had  forded  some 
distance  down-  the  valley,  and  there  he  bathed. 
Having  started  once  or  twice,  as  though  with  some 
remembered  and  definite  purpose,  he  paused  a 
moment  or  two,  looked  about  him  helplessly,  and 
returned  to  the  foot  of  the  great  tree  where  we  slept 
the  first  night  of  our  acquaintance. 

There  was  a  faint  suggestion  of  the  fall  across  the 
sombre  breast  of  the  cliff  opposite,  but  whether  it 
were  real  or  a  delusion,  I  could  scarcely  determine. 
Taboo  was  soon  asleep  among  the  roots  of  the  ban- 
yan ;  and  I,  weary  of  seeking  some  revelation  of  the 
island  mysteries,  lay  down  near  him,  and  gradually 
sank  into  unconsciousness,  Once  in  the  night  I 
7 


98  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

awoke  :  the  clouds  had  blown  over,  and  the  moon 
was  more  resplendent  than  I  ever  remember  to  have 
seen  it.  Out  on  the  mossy  rim  of  the  lake  stood 
Taboo,  gazing  wistfully  upon  the  mountains.  In- 
stinctively my  eyes  followed  his,  and  there  I  beheld 
the  waterfall  in  all  its  glory,  leaping,  like  a  ray  of 
light,  from  the  bosom  of  the  sky.  I  could  scarcely 
determine  whether  or  no  it  really  fell  into  the  lake, 
for  the  foliage  about  its  shores  was  too  profuse.  It 
flashed  like  handfuls  of  diamond-dust  thrown  into 
the  light,  and  descended  as  noiselessly  and  airily  as 
vapor. 

The  clouds  soon  gathered  again.  I  slept,  over- 
come with  weariness ;  and  when  I  awoke  at  dawn, 
Taboo  was  missing,  as  well  as  all  traces  of  the  fall. 
This,  however,  scarcely  surprised  me,  for  I  had 
grown  to  look  upon  it  as  some  lunar  effect  that  came 
and  went  with  the  increasing  or  decreasing  splendor 
of  the  moon  ;  or  it  might  have  been  the  short-lived 
offspring  of  the  showers  that  sweep  over  the  island 
at  uncertain  intervals.  It  was  probably  the  only 
dramatic  result  to  be  looked  for  in  the  career  of 
Taboo.  You  never  can  depend  upon  one  of  those 
veering  minds  whose  north-star  has  burned  out  in 
oblivion.  I  believe  it  was  his  destiny  to  disappear 
with  that  rainbow,  and,  perhaps,  return  with  it  when 
the  fall  should  noiselessly  steal  down  the  mountain 
once  more. 

He  may  have  had  an  object  in  secreting  himself 
for  a  season  ;  perhaps  he  was  renewing  his  youthful 
innocence  in  some  more  solitary  spot.  He  may  have 


TABOO — A    FE  IE-DAY  IN  TAHITI         99 

gone  apart  to  laugh  by  the  hour  at  the  folly  of  the 
foreigners  who  fete  a  disgraced  emperor ;  or  was  he 
making  his  queer  noises  to  hear  the  queerer  echoes 
that  came  back  to  him,  and  all  the  while  caring  no 
more  for  life  or  death  than  a  parrot  or  a  magpie,  or 
even  a  poor,  half-shapen  soul — one  of  those  sacred 
idiots  that  have  found  worshippers  before  now,  and 
never  yet  failed  to  awaken  a  chord  of  sympathy  in 
the  heart  that  is  fashioned  after  the  divine  pattern 
of  the  Son  of  God ! 


JOE  OF  LAHAINA 


I  WAS  stormed  in  at  Lahaina.  Now,  Lahaina  is 
a  little  slice  of  civilization,  beached  on  the 
shore  of  barbarism.  One  can  easily  stand  that  little 
of  it,  for  brown  and  brawny  heathendom  becomes 
more  wonderful  and  captivating  by  contrast.  So  I 
was  glad  of  dear,  drowsy,  little  Lahaina ,  and  was 
glad,  also,  that  she  had  but  one  broad  street,  which 
possibly  led  to  destruction,  and  yet  looked  lovely  in 
the  distance.  It  didn't  matter  to  me  that  the  one 
broad  street  had  but  one  side  to  it ;  for  the  sea 
lapped  over  the  sloping  sands  on  its  lower  edge,  and 
the  sun  used  to  set  right  in  the  face  of  every  solitary 
citizen  of  Lahaina,  just  as  he  went  to  supper. 

I  was  waiting  to  catch  a  passage  in  a  passing 
schooner,  and  that's  why  I  came  there  ;  but  the 
schooner  flashed  by  us  in  a  great  gale  from  the 
south,  and  so  I  was  stormed  in  indefinitely. 

It  was  Holy  Week,  and  I  concluded  to  go  to 
housekeeping,  because  it  would  be  so  nice  to  have 
my  frugal  meals  in  private,  to  go  to  mass  and  ves- 
pers daily,  and  then  to  come  back  and  feel  quite 
at  home.  My  villa  was  suburban  —  built  of  dried 


JOE   OF  LAHAINA  IOI 

grasses  on  the  model  of  a  haystack  dug  out  in  the 
middle,  with  doors  and  windows  let  into  the  four 
sides  thereof.  It  was  planted  in  the  midst  of  a  vine- 
yard, with  avenues  stretching  in  all  directions  under 
a  network  of  stems  and  tendrils. 

*'  Her  breath  is  sweeter  than  the  sweet  winds 

That  breathe  over  the  grape-blossoms  of  Lahaina." 

So  the  song  said  ;  and  I  began  to  think  upon  the 
surpassing  sweetness  of  that  breath,  as  I  inhaled  the 
sweet  winds  of  Lahaina,  while  the  wilderness  of  its 
vineyards  blossomed  like  the  rose.  I  used  to  sit  in 
my  veranda  and  turn  to  Joe  (Joe  was  my  private  and 
confidential  servant),  and  I  would  say  to  Joe,  while 
we  scented  the  odor  of  grape,  and  saw  the  great 
banana-leaves  waving  their  cambric  sails,  and  heard 
the  sea  moaning  in  the  melancholy  distance — I 
would  say  to  him,  "  Joe,  housekeeping  is  good  fun, 
isn't  it?"  Whereupon  Joe  would  utter  a  sort  of 
unanimous  Yes,  with  his  whole  body  and  soul ;  so 
that  question  was  carried  triumphantly,  and  we  would 
relapse  into  a  comfortable  silence,  while  the  voices 
of  the  wily  singers  down  on  the  river  front  would 
whisper  to  us,  and  cause  us  to  wonder  what  they 
could  possibly  be  doing  at  that  moment  in  the  broad 
way  that  led  to  destruction.  Then  we  would  take  a 
drink  of  cocoa-milk,  and  finish  our  bananas,  and  go 
to  bed,  because  we  had  nothing  else  to  do. 

This  is  the  way  that  we  began  our  co-operative 
housekeeping  :  One  night,  when  there  was  a  riotous 


102  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

sort  of  a  festival  off  in  a  retired  valley,  I  saw,  in  the 
excited  throng  of  natives  who  were  going  mad  over 
their  national  dance,  a  young  face  that  seemed  to 
embody  a  whole  tropical  romance.  On  another 
night,  when  a  lot  of  us  were  bathing  in  the  moon- 
light, I  saw  a  figure  so  fresh  and  joyous  that  I  be- 
gan to  realize  how  the  old  Greeks  could  worship 
mere  physical  beauty  and  forget  its  higher  forms. 
Then  I  discovered  that  face  on  this  body — a  rare 
enough  combination — and  the  whole  constituted 
Joe,  a  young  scapegrace  who  was  schooling  at  La- 
haina,  under  the  eye — not  a  very  sharp  one — of  his 
uncle.  When  I  got  stormed  in,  and  resolved  on 
housekeeping  for  a  season,  I  took  Joe,  bribing  his 
uncle  to  keep  the  peace,  which  he  promised  to  do, 
provided  I  gave  bonds  for  Joe's  irreproachable  con- 
duct while  with  me.  I  willingly  gave  bonds — ver- 
bal ones — for  this  was  just  what  I  wanted  of  Joe  : 
namely,  to  instil  into  his  youthful  mind  those  coun- 
sels which,  if  rigorously  followed,  must  result  in  his 
becoming  a  true  and  unterrified  American.  This 
compact  settled,  Joe  took  up  his  bed— a  roll  of  mats 
— and  down  we  marched  to  my  villa,  and  began 
housekeeping  in  good  earnest. 

We  soon  got  settled,  and  began  to  enjoy  life, 
though  we  were  not  without  occasional  domestic  in- 
felicities. Por  instance,  Joe  would  wake  up  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  declaring  to  me  that  it  was 
morning,  and  thereupon  insist  upon  sweeping  out  at 
once,  and  in  the  most  vigorous  manner.  Having 
filled  the  air  with  dust,  he  would  rush  off  to  the 


JOE   OF  LAHAINA  1 03 

baker's  for  our  hot  rolls  and  a  pat  of  breakfast  but- 
ter, leaving  me,  meantime,  to  recover  as  I  might. 
Having  settled  myself  for  a  comfortable  hour's  read- 
ing, bolstered  up  in  a  luxurious  fashion,  Joe  would 
enter  with  breakfast,  and  orders  to  the  effect  that 
it  be  eaten  at  once  and  without  delay.  It  was 
useless  for  me  to  remonstrate  with  him ;  he  waa 
tyrannical. 

He  got  me  into  all  sorts  of  trouble.  It  was  Holy 
Week,  and  I  had  resolved  upon  going  to  mass  and 
vespers  daily.  I  went.  The  soft  night-winds  floated 
in  through  the  latticed  windows  of  the  chapel,  and 
made  the  candles  flicker  upon  the  altar.  The  little 
throng  of  natives  bowed  in  the  oppressive  silence, 
and  were  deeply  moved.  It  was  rest  for  the  soul  to 
be  there  ;  yet,  in  the  midst  of  it,  while  the  Father, 
with  his  pale,  sad  face,  gave  his  instructions,  to 
which  we  listened  as  attentively  as  possible — foaf 
there  was  something  in  his  manner  and  his  voice 
that  made  us  better  creatures — while  we  listened,  in 
the  midst  of  it  I  heard  a  shrill  little  whistle,  a  sorfc 
of  chirp,  that  I  knew  perfectly  well.  It  was  Joe.  sit' 
ting  on  a  cocoa-stump  in  the  garden  adjoining,  and 
beseeching  me  to  come  out,  right  off.  When  ser~ 
vice  was  over,  I  remonstrated  with  him  for  his  u> 
reverence.  "Joe,"  I  said,  "if  you  have  no  respect 
for  religion  yourself,  respect  those  who  are  more 
fortunate  than  you."  But  Joe  was  dressed  in  hia 
best,  and  quite  wild  at  the  entrancing  loveliness  of 
the  night.  "  Let's  walk  a  little,"  said  Joe,  covered 
with  fragrant  wreaths,  and  redolent  of  cocoanut-oil 


IO4  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

What  could  I  do  ?  If  I  had  tried  to  do  anything  to 
the  contrary,  he  might  have  taken  me  and  thrown 
me  away  somewhere  into  a  well  or  a  jungle,  and 
then  I  could  no  longer  hope  to  touch  the  chord 
of  remorse  —  which  chord  I  sought  vainly,  and 
which  I  have  since  concluded  was  not  in  Joe's 
physical  corporation  at  all.  So  we  walked  a  little. 
In  vain  I  strove  to  break  Joe  of  the  shocking  habit 
of  whistling  me  out  of  vespers.  He  would  persist  in 
doing  it.  Moreover,  during  the  day  he  would  col- 
lect crusts  of  bread  and  banana-skins,  station  him- 
self in  ambush  behind  the  curtain  of  the  window 
next  the  laiie,  and,  as  some  solitary  creature  strode 
solemnly  past,  Joe  would  discharge  a  volley  of  am- 
munition over  him,  and  then  laugh  immoderately  at 
his  indignation  and  surprise.  Joe  was  my  pet  ele- 
phant, and  I  was  obliged  to  play  with  him  very  cau- 
tiously. 

One  morning  he  disappeared.  I  was  without  the 
consolations  of  a  breakfast,  even.  I  made  my  toilet, 
went  to  my  portmanteau  for  my  purse — for  I  had 
decided  upon  a  visit  to  the  baker — when  lo  !  part 
of  my  slender  means  had  mysteriously  disappeared. 
Joe  was  gone,  and  the  money  also.  All  day  I 
thought  about  it.  In  the  morning,  after  a  very 
long  and  miserable  night,  I  woke  up,  and  when  I 
opened  my  eyes,  there,  in  the  doorway,  stood  Joe, 
in  a  brand-new  suit  of  clothes,  including  boots  and 
hat.  He  was  gorgeous  beyond  description,  and 
seemed  over  joyed  to  see  me,  and  as  merry  as  though 
nothing  unusual  had  happened.  I  was  quite  startled 


JOE   OF  LAHAINA  10$ 

at  this  apparition.  "  Joseph  !  "  I  said  in  my  sever- 
est tone,  and  then  turned  over  and  looked  away 
from  him.  Joe  evaded  the  subject  in  the  most  del- 
icate manner,  and  was  never  so  interesting  as  at 
that  moment.  He  sang  his  specialties,  and  played 
clumsily  upon  his  bamboo  flute — to  soothe  me,  I  sup- 
pose— and  wanted  me  to  eat  a  whole  flat  pie  which 
he  had  brought  home  as  a  peace-offering,  buttoned 
tightly  under  his  jacket.  I  saw  I  must  strike  at 
once,  if  I  struck  at  all  ;  so  I  said,  "  Joe,  what  on 
earth  did  you  do  with  that  money  ?  "  Joe  said  he 
had  replenished  his  wardrobe,  and  bought  the  flat 
pie  especially  for  me.  "  Joseph,"  I  said,  with  great 
dignity,  "  do  you  know  that  you  have  been  stealing, 
and  that  it  is  highly  sinful  to  steal,  and  may  result 
in  something  unpleasant  in  the  world  to  come  ? " 
Joe  said,  "Yes,"  pleasantly,  though  I  hardly  think 
he  meant  it ;  and  then  he  added,  mildly,  "  that  he 
couldn't  lie" — which  was  a  glaring  falsehood — "  but 
wanted  me  to  be  sure  that  he  took  the  money,  and 
BO  had  come  back  to  tell  me." 

"Joseph,"  I  said,  "you  remind  me  of  our  noble 
Washington  ; "  and,  to  my  amazement,  Joe  was  mor- 
tified. He  didn't,  of  course,  know  who  Washington 
was,  but  he  suspected  that  I  was  ridiculing  him. 
He  came  to  the  bed  and  haughtily  insisted  upon  my 
taking  the  little  change  he  had  received  from  his 
costumers,  but  I  implored  him  to  keep  it,  as  I  had 
no  use  at  all  for  it,  and,  as  I  assured  him,  I  much 
preferred  hearing  it  jingle  in  his  pocket. 

The  next  day  I  sailed  out  of  Lahaina,  and  Joe 


IO6  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

came  to  the  beach  with  his  new  trousers  tucked  into 
his  new  boots,  while  he  waved  his  new  hat  violently  in 
a  final  adieu,  much  to  the  envy  and  admiration  of  a 
score  of  hatless  urchins,  who  looked  upon  Joe  as  the 
glass  of  fashion,  and  but  little  lower  than  the  angels. 
When  I  entered  the  boat  to  set  sail,  a  tear  stood  in 
Joe's  bright  eye,  and  I  think  he  was  really  sorry  to 
part  with  me  ;  and  I  don't  wonder  at  it,  because  our 
housekeeping  experiences  were  new  to  him — and,  I 
may  add,  not  unprofitable. 


n. 


SOME  months  of  mellow  and  beautiful  weather 
found  me  wandering  here  and  there  among  the  isl- 
ands, when  the  gales  came  on  again,  and  I  was 
driven  about  homeless,  and  sometimes  friendless, 
until,  by  and  by,  I  heard  of  an  opportunity  to  visit 
Molokai — an  island  seldom  visited  by  the  tourist — 
where,  perhaps,  I  could  get  a  close  view  of  a  singu- 
larly sad  and  interesting  colony  of  lepers. 

The  whole  island  is  green,  but  lonely.  As  you 
ride  over  its  excellent  turnpike,  you  see  the  ruins  of 
a  nation  that  is  passing,  like  a  shadow,  out  of  sight. 
Deserted  garden-patches,  crumbling  walls,  and  roofs 
tumbled  into  the  one  state-chamber  of  the  house, 
while  knots  of  long  grass  wave  at  halfmast  in  the 
chinks  and  crannies.  A  laud  of  great  traditions,  of 
magic  and  witchcraft  and  spirits.  A  fertile  and 
fragrant  solitude.  How  I  enjoyed  it ;  and  yet  how 


JOE   OF  LAHAItfA  IO/ 

it  was  all  telling  upon  me,  in  its  own  way  !  One 
cannot  help  feeling  sad  there,  for  he  seems  to  be  liv- 
ing and  moving  in  a  long  revery,  out  of  which  he 
dreads  to  awaken  to  a  less  pathetic  life.  I  rode  a  day 
or  two  among  the  solemn  and  reproachful  ruins 
with  inexpressible  complacence,  and,  having  finally 
climbed  a  series  of  verdant  and  downy  hills,  and  rid- 
den for  twenty  minutes  in  a  brisk  shower,  came  sud- 
denly upon  the  brink  of  a  great  precipice,  three  thou- 
sand feet  in  the  air.  My  horse  instinctively  braced 
himself,  and  I  nervously  jerked  the  bridle  square  up 
to  my  breastbone,  as  I  found  we  were  poised  between 
heaven  and  earth,  upon  a  trembling  pinnacle  of  rock. 
A  broad  peninsula  was  stretched  below  me,  covered 
with  grassy  hills  ;  here  and  there  clusters  of  brown 
huts  were  visible,  and  to  the  right,  the  white  dots 
of  houses  to  which  I  was  hastening,  for  that  was 
the  leper  village.  To  that  spot  were  the  wandering 
and  afflicted  tribes  brought  home  to  die.  Once  de- 
scending the  narrow  stairs  in  the  cliff  under  me, 
never  again  could  they  hope  to  strike  their  tents  and 
resume  their  pilgrimage  ;  for  the  curse  was  on  them, 
and  necessity  had  narrowed  down  their  sphere  of 
action  to  this  compass— a  solitary  slope  between  sea 
and  land,  with  the  invisible  sentinels  of  Fear  and 
Fate  forever  watching  its  borders. 

I  seemed  to  be  looking  into  a  fiery  furnace  where- 
in walked  the  living  bodies  of  those  whom  Death 
had  already  set  his  seal  upon.  What  a  mockery  it 
seemed  to  be,  climbing  down  that  crag  —  through 
wreaths  of  vine,  and  under  leafy  cataracts  breaking 


108  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

into  a  foam  of  blossoms  a  thousand  feet  below  me  ; 
swinging  aside  the  hanging  parasites  that  obstructed 
the  narrow  way — and  so  entering  the  valley  of  death, 
and  the  very  mouth  of  hell,  by  these  floral  avenues ! 

A  brisk  ride  of  a  couple  of  miles  across  the 
breadth  of  the  peninsula  brought  me  to  the  gate  of 
the  keeper  of  the  settlement,  and  there  I  dismounted 
and  hastened  into  the  house,  to  be  rid  of  the  curious 
crowd  that  had  gathered  to  receive  me.  The  little 
cottage  was  very  comfortable,  my  host  and  hostess 
friends  of  precious  memory  ;  and  with  them  I  felt  at 
once  at  home,  and  began  the  new  life  that  everyone 
begins  when  the  earth  seems  to  have  been  suddenly 
transformed  into  some  better  or  worse  world,  and 
he  alone  survives  the  transformation. 

Have  you  never  had  such  an  experience  ?  Then 
go  into  the  midst  of  a  community  of  lepers  ;  have 
ever  before  your  eyes  their  Gorgon-like  faces  ;  see 
the  horrors,  hardly  to  be  recognized  as  human,  that 
grope  about  you  ;  listen  in  vain  for  the  voices  that 
have  been  hushed  forever  by  decay  ;  breathe  the 
tainted  atmosphere  ;  and  bear  ever  in  mind  that, 
while  they  hover  about  you — forbidden  to  touch 
you,  yet  longing  to  clasp  once  more  a  hand  that  is 
perfect  and  pure — the  insidious  seeds  of  the  malady 
may  be  generating  in  your  vitals,  and  your  heart, 
even  then,  be  drunk  with  death ! 

I  might  as  well  confess  that  I  slept  indifferently 
the  first  night ;  that  I  was  not  entirely  free  from 
nervousness  the  next  day,  as  I  passed  through  the 
various  wards  assigned  to  patients  in  every  stage  of 


JOE   OF  LAHAINA  109 

decomposition.  But  I  recovered  myself  in  time  to 
observe  the  admirable  system  adopted  by  the 
Hawaiian  Government  for  the  protection  of  its  un- 
fortunate people.  I  used  to  sit  by  the  window  and 
see  the  processions  of  the  less  afflicted  come  for  lit- 
tle measures  of  milk,  morning  and  evening.  Then 
there  was  a  continuous  raid  upon  the  ointment-pot, 
with  the  contents  of  which  they  delighted  to  anoint 
themselves.  Trifling  disturbances  sometimes  brought 
the  plaintiff  and  defendant  to  the  front  gate,  for 
final  judgment  at  the  hands  of  their  beloved  keeper. 
And  it  was  a  constant  entertainment  to  watch  the 
progress  of  events  in  that  singular  little  world  of 
doomed  spirits.  They  were  not  unhappy.  I  used  to 
hear  them  singing  every  evening  ;  their  souls  were 
singing  while  their  bodies  were  falling  rapidly  to 
dust.  They  continued  to  play  their  games,  as  well 
as  they  could  play  them  with  the  loss  of  a  finger- 
joint  or  a  toe,  from  week  to  week  :  it  was  thus  grad- 
ually and  thus  slowly  that  they  died,  feeling  their 
voices  growing  fainter  and  their  strength  less,  as  the 
idle  days  passed  over  them  and  swept  them  to  the 
tomb. 

Sitting  at  the  window  on  the  second  evening,  as 
the  patients  came  up  for  milk,  I  observed  one  of 
them  watching  me  intently,  and  apparently  trying  to 
make  me  understand  something  or  other,  but  what 
that  something  was  I  could  not  guess.  He  rushed 
to  the  keeper  and  talked  excitedly  with  him  for  a 
moment,  and  then  withdrew  to  one  side  of  the  gate 
and  waited  till  the  others  were  served  with  their 


110  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

milk,  still  watching  me  all  the  while.  Then  the 
keeper  entered  and  told  me  how  I  had  a  friend  out 
there  who  wished  to  speak  with  me — some  one  who 
had  seen  me  somewhere,  he  supposed,  but  whom  I 
would  hardly  remember.  It  was  their  way  never  to 
forget  a  face  they  had  once  become  familiar  with. 
Out  I  went  There  was  a  face  I  could  not  have 
recognized  as  anything  friendly  or  human.  Knots 
of  flesh  stood  out  upon  it ;  scar  upon  scar  disfigured 
it.  The  expression  was  like  that  of  a  mummy,  stony 
and  withered.  The  outline  of  a  youthful  figure 
were  preserved,  but  the  hands  and  feet  were  pitiful 
to  look  at.  What  was  this  ogre  that  knew  me  and 
loved  me  still  ? 

He  soon  told  me  who  he  had  once  been,  but  was 
no  longer.  My  little,  unfortunate  "  Joe, "  my  Lahaina 
charge.  In  his  case  the  disease  had  spread  with  fear- 
ful rapidity;  the  keeper  thought  he  could  hardly 
survive  the  year.  Many  linger  year  after  year,  and 
cannot  die  ;  but  Joe  was  more  fortunate.  His  life  had 
been  brief  and  passionate,  and  death  was  now  hasten- 
ing him  to  his  dissolution. 

Joe  was  forbidden  to  come  near  me,  so  he  crouched 
down  by  the  fence,  and,  pressing  his  hands  between 
the  pickets,  sifted  the  dust  at  my  feet,  while  he 
wailed  in  a  low  voice  and  called  me,  over  and  over, 
"dear  friend,"  "good  friend,"  and  ''master."  I 
wish  I  had  never  seen  him  so  humbled.  To  think 
of  my  disreputable  little  protegf:,  who  was  wont  to 
lord  it  over  me  as  though  he  had  been  a  born  chief 
— to  think  of  Joe  as  being  there  in  his  extremity, 


JOE   OF  LAHAINA  III 

grovelling  in  the  dust  at  my  feet ;  forbidden  to 
climb  the  great  wall  of  flowers  that  towered  between 
him  and  his  beautiful  world,  while  the  rough  sea 
lashed  the  coast  about  him,  and  his  only  companions 
were  such  hideous  forms  as  would  frighten  one  out 
of  a  dream  ! 

How  I  wanted  to  get  close  to  him  !  but  I  dared 
not ;  so  we  sat  there  with  the  slats  of  the  fence  be- 
tween us,  while  we  talked  very  long  in  the  twilight ; 
and  I  was  glad  when  it  grew  so  dark  that  I  could  no 
longer  see  his  face — his  terrible  face,  that  came  to 
kill  the  memory  of  his  former  beauty. 

And  Joe  wondered  whether  I  still  remembered 
how  we  used  to  walk  in  the  night,  and  go  home,  at 
last,  to  our  little  house  when  Lahaina  was  as  still  as 
death,  and  you  could  almost  hear  the  great  stars 
throbbing  in  the  clear  sky !  How  well  I  remem- 
bered it,  and  the  day  when  we  went  a  long  way 
down  the  beach,  and,  looking  back,  saw  a  wide  curve 
of  the  land  cutting  the  sea  like  a  sickle,  and  turn- 
ing up  a  white  and  shining  swath  !  Then  in  an- 
other place,  a  grove  of  cocoa-palms  and  a  melancho- 
ly, monastic-looking  building,  with  splendid  palm- 
branches  in  its  broad  windows  :  for  it  was  just  after 
Palm  Sunday,  and  the  building  belonged  to  a  sister- 
hood. And  I  remembered  how  the  clouds  fell  and 
the  rain  drove  us  into  a  sudden  shelter,  and  we  ate 
tamarind-jam,  spread  thick  on  thin  slices  of  bread, 
and  were  supremely  happy.  In  this  connection  I 
could  not  forget  how  Joe  became  very  unruly  about 
that  time,  and  I  got  mortified,  and  found  great  dif- 


112  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

ficulty  in  getting  him  home  at  all ;  and  yet  the  mem« 
ory  of  it  would  have  been  perfect  but  for  this  fate. 

0  Joe  !  my  poor,  dear,  terrible  cobra  !  to  think  that 

1  should  ever  be  afraid  to  look  into  your  face  in  my 
life! 

Joe  wanted  to  call  to  my  mind  one  other  remi- 
niscence— a  night  when  we  two  walked  to  the  old 
wharf,  and  went  out  to  the  end  of  it,  and  sat  there 
looking  inland,  watching  the  inky  waves  slide  up 
and  down  the  beach,  while  the  full  moon  rose  over 
the  superb  mountains  where  the  clouds  were  heaped 
like  wool,  and  the  very  air  seemed  full  of  utterances 
that  you  could  almost  hear  and  understand  but  for 
something  that  made  them  all  a  mystery.  I  tried 
then,  if  ever  I  tried  in  my  life,  to  make  Joe  a  little 
less  bad  than  he  was  naturally,  and  he  seemed  near- 
ly inclined  to  be  better,  and  would,  I  think,  have 
been  so,  but  for  the  thousand  temptations  that 
gravitated  to  him  when  we  got  on  solid  earth  again. 
He  forgot  ray  precepts  then,  and  I'm  afraid  I  forgot 
them  myself.  Joe  remembered  that  night  vividly. 
I  was  touched  to  hear  him  confess  it ;  and  I  pray 
earnestly  that  that  one  moment  may  plead  for  him 
in  the  last  day,  if,  indeed,  he  needs  any  special  plea 
other  than  that  Nature  has  published  for  her  own. 

"  Sing  for  me,  Joe,"  said  I ;  and  Joe,  still  crouching 
on  the  other  side  of  the  lattice,  sang  some  of  his  old 
songs.  One  of  them,  a  popular  melody,  was  echoed 
through  the  little  settlement,  where  faint  voices 
caught  up  the  chorus,  and  the  night  was  wildly  and 
weirdly  musical.  We  walked  by  the  sea  the  next 


JOE   OF  LAHAINA  113 

day,  and  the  day  following  that,  Joe  taking  pains  to 
stay  on  the  leeward  side  of  me — he  was  so  careful 
to  keep  the  knowledge  of  his  fate  uppermost  in  his 
mind  ;  how  could  I  dismiss  it  from  my  own,  when 
it  was  branded  in  his  countenance  ?  The  desolated 
beauty  of  his  face  pleaded  for  measureless  pity, 
and  I  gave  it,  out  of  my  prodigality,  yet  felt  that  I 
could  not  begin  to  give  sufficient. 

Link  by  link  he  was  casting  off  his  hold  on  life  ; 
he  was  no  longer  a  complete  being ;  his  soul  was 
prostrated  in  the  miry  clay,  and  waited,  in  agony, 
its  long  deliverance. 

In  leaving  the  leper  village,  I  had  concluded  to 
say  nothing  to  Joe,  other  than  the  usual  "  aloha  "  at 
night,  when  I  could  ride  off  in  the  darkness,  and, 
sleeping  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  ascend  it  in  the  first 
light  of  morning,  and  get  well  on  my  journey  before 
the  heat  of  the  day.  We  took  a  last  walk  by  the 
rocks  on  the  shore  ;  heard  the  sea  breathing  its  long 
breath  under  the  hollow  cones  of  lava,  with  a  noise 
like  a  giant  leper  in  his  asthmatic  agony.  Joe  heard 
it,  and  laughed  a  little,  and  then  grew  silent ;  and 
finally  said  he  wanted  to  leave  the  place— he  hated 
it ;  he  loved  Lahaina  dearly  ;  how  was  everybody  in 
Lahaina  ? — a  question  he  had  asked  me  hourly  since 
my  arrival. 

When  night  came  I  asked  Joe  to  sing,  as  usual ; 
so  he  gathered  his  mates  about  him,  and  they  sang 
the  songs  I  liked  best.  The  voices  rang,  sweeter 
than  ever,  up  from  the  group  of  singers  congregated 
ft  few  rods  off,  in  the  darkness ;  and  while  they 
8 


114  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

sang,  my  horse  was  saddled,  and  I  quietly  bade 
adieu  to  my  dear  friends,  the  keepers,  and,  mount- 
ing, walked  the  horse  slowly  up  the  grass-grown 
road.  I  shall  never  see  little  Joe  again,  with  his 
pitiful  face,  growing  gradually  as  dreadful  as  a  co- 
bra's, and  almost  as  fascinating  in  its  hideousness.  I 
waited,  a  little  way  off,  in  the  darkness — waited  and 
listened,  till  the  last  song  was  ended,  and  I  knew  he 
would  be  looking  for  me,  to  say  Good-night.  But 
he  did  not  find  me  ;  and  he  will  never  again  find  me 
in  this  life,  for  I  left  him  sitting  in  the  dark  door 
of  his  sepulchre — sitting  and  singing  in  the  moutt 
of  his  grave — clothed  all  in  Death. 


FHE   NIGHT-DANCERS   OF  WAIPIO 


afternoon  sun  was  tinting  the  snowy  crest 
-L.  of  Mauna  Kea,  and  folds  of  shadow  were  drap- 
ing the  sea- washed  eastern  cliffs  of  Hawaii,  as  Felix 
and  I  endeavored  to  persuade  our  fagged  steeds  that 
they  must  go  on  and  live,  or  stay  and  die  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  lava-trail  by  no  means  inviting.  As  we 
rode,  we  thought  of  the  scandal  that  so  recently  had 
regaled  our  too  willing  ears  ;  here  it  is,  in  a  mild  so- 
lution, to  be  taken  with  three  parts  of  disbelief : 

Two  venerable  and  warm  -  hearted  missionaries, 
whose  good  works  seemed  to  have  found  dissimilar 
expression,  equally  effective,  I  trust,  proved  their 
specialties  to  be  church-building.  The  Rev.  Mr.  A 
seemed  to  think  the  more  churches  the  merrier, 
and  his  pretty  little  meeting-houses  looked  as  though 
they  had  been  baked  in  the  lot,  like  a  sheet  of  bis- 
cuits ;  while  the  Rev.  Mr.  B  condensed  his  efforts 
into  the  consummation  of  one  resplendent  edifice. 
Mr.  A  was  always  wondering  why  Mr.  B  should  waste 
his  money  in  a  single  church,  while  Mr.  B  was  non- 
plussed at  seeing  Mr.  A  break  out  in  a  rash  of  di- 
minutive chapels.  Well,  Felix  and  I  were  riding 
northward  up  the  coast,  over  dozens  and  dozens  of 


Il6  SOUTH- SEA    IDYLS 

lovely  ridges  ;  through  scores  of  deep  gullies  cush- 
ioned with  ferns  as  high  as  our  pommels,  and  ford- 
ing numberless  streams,  white  with  froth  and  hurry, 
eagerly  seeking  the  most  exquisite  valley  in  the 
Pacific,  as  some  call  it.  We  rode  till  we  were  tired 
out  twenty  times  over  ;  again  and  again  we  looked 
forward  to  the  bit  of  Mardi-life  we  were  about  to 
experience  in  the  vale  of  the  Waipio,  while  now  and 
then  we  passed  one  of  Mr.  A's  pretty  little  churches. 
Once  we  were  impatient  enough  to  make  inquiry  of 
a  native  who  was  watching  our  progress  with  con- 
siderable emotion ;  there  is  always  some  one  to 
watch  you  when  you  are  wishing  yourself  at  the 
North  Pole.  Our  single  spectator  affected  an  air  of 
gravity,  and  seemed  quite  interested  as  he  said,  "  Go 
six  or  seven  churches  farther  on  that  trail,  and  you'll 
come  to  Waipio."  On  we  went  with  renewed  spir- 
its, for  the  churches  were  frequent,  almost  within 
sight  of  each  other.  But  we  faltered  presently  and 
lost  our  reckoning,  they  were  so  much  alike.  Again 
we  asked  our  way  of  a  solitary  watcher  on  a  hill-top, 
who  had  had  his  eye  upon  us  ever  since  we  rose 
above  the  rim  of  the  third  ridge  back  ;  he  revealed 
to  us  the  glad  fact  that  we  were  only  two  churches 
from  Paradise  !  How  we  tore  over  the  rest  of  that 
straight  and  narrow  way  with  the  little  life  left  to 
us,  and  came  in  finally  all  of  a  foam,  fairly  jumping 
the  last  mite  of  a  chapel  that  hung  upon  the  brink 
of  the  beautiful  valley  like  a  swallow's  nest !  And 
down  we  dropped  into  fifty  fathoms  of  the  sweetest 
twilight  imaginable— so  sweet  it  seemed  to  have 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS   OF   WAIPIO       1 1/ 

been  born  of  a  wilderness  of  the  night-blooming 
cereus  and  fed  forever  on  jasmine  buds. 

There  were  shelter  and  refreshment  for  two  hun- 
gry souls,  and  we  slid  out  of  our  saddles  as  though 
we  had  been  boned  expressly  for  a  cannibal  feast. 

By  this  time  the  rosy  flush  on  Mauna  Kea  had 
faded,  and  its  superb  brow  was  pale  with  an  un- 
earthly pallor.  "  Come  in,"  said  the  host ;  and  he 
led  us  under  the  thatched  gable,  that  was  fragrant 
as  new-mown  hay.  There  we  sat,  "  in,"  as  he  called 
it,  though  there  was  never  a  side  to  the  concern 
thicker  than  a  shadow. 

A  stream  flowed  noiselessly  at  our  feet.  Canoes 
drifted  by  us,  with  dusky  and  nude  forms  bowed 
over  the  paddles.  Each  occupant  greeted  us,  being 
guests  in  the  valley,  just  lifting  their  slumberous 
eyelids — masked  batteries  that  made  Felix  forget 
his  danger  ;  they  seldom  paused,  but  called  back  to 
us  from  the  gathering  darkness  with  inexpressibly 
tender  contralto  voices. 

Thereupon  we  were  summoned  to  dinner  in  an- 
other apartment,  screened  with  vines.  The  faint 
flicker  of  the  tapers  suggested  that  what  breath  of 
air  might  be  stirring  came  from  the  mountain,  and 
it  brought  with  it  a  message  from  the  orangery  up 
the  vaDey.  "  How  will  you  take  your  oranges  ?  " 
queried  Felix  ;  "  in  pulp,  liquid,  or  perfume  ?  " — 
and  such  a  dense  odor  swept  past  us  at  the  moment, 
I  thought  I  had  taken  them  in  the  triple  forms. 
"You  are  just  in  time,"  said  our  host.  "Why, 
what's  up  ?  "  asked  L  "  The  moon  will  be  up  pres- 


Il8  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

ently,  and  after  moonrise  you  shall  see  the  hula- 
hula." 

Felix  desired  to  be  enlightened  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  what  -  you  -  call  -  it,  and  was  assured  that  it 
was  worth  seeing,  and  would  require  no  explanatory 
chorus  when  its  hour  came. 

It  was  at  least  a  mile  to  the  scene  of  action  ;  a  tor- 
tuous stream  wound  thither,  navigable  in  spots,  but 
from  time  to  time  the  canoe  would  have  to  take  to 
the  banks  for  a  short  cut  into  deeper  water. 

"  I  can  never  get  there,"  growled  Felix  ;  "  I'm  full 
of  needles  and  pins  ; "  to  which  the  host  respond- 
ed by  excusing  himself  for  a  few  moments,  leaving 
Felix  and  me  alone.  It  was  deathly  still  in  the  val- 
ley, though  a  thousand  crickets  sang,  and  the  fish 
smacked  their  round  mouths  at  the  top  of  the  water. 
Evening  comes  slowly  in  those  beloved  tropics,  but 
it  comes  so  satisfactorily  that  there  is  nothing  left  out. 

A  moonlight  night  is  a  continuous  festival.  The 
natives  sing  and  dance  till  daybreak,  making  it  all 
up  by  sleeping  till  the  next  twilight.  Nothing  is 
lost  by  this  ingenious  and  admirable  arrangement. 
Why  should  they  sleep,  when  a  night  there  has  the 
very  essence  of  five  nights  anywhere  else,  extracted 
and  enriched  with  spices  till  it  is  so  inspiring  that 
the  soul  cries  out  in  triumph,  and  the  eyes  couldn't 
sleep  if  they  would  ? 

At  this  period,  enter  to  us  the  host,  with  several 
young  native  girls,  who  seat  themselves  at  our  feet, 
clasping  each  a  boot-leg  encasing  the  extremities  of 
Felix  and  myself. 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS   OF    WAIPIO        II g 

"Felix  kicked  violently,  and  left  the  room  with 
some  embarrassment,  and  I  appealed  to  the  hos- 
pitable gentleman  of  the  house,  who  was  smiling 
somewhat  audibly  at  our  perplexity. 

He  assured  me  that  if  I  would  throw  myself  upon 
the  mats  in  the  corner,  two  of  these  maids  would 
speedily  relieve  me  of  any  bodily  pain  I  might  at 
that  moment  be  suffering  with. 

I  did  so  :  the  two  proceeded  as  set  down  in  the 
verbal  prospectus  ;  and  whatever  bodily  pain  I  may 
have  possessed  at  the  beginning  of  the  process 
speedily  dwindled  into  insignificance  by  comparison 
with  the  tortures  of  my  novel  cure.  Every  limb  had 
to  be  un jointed  and  set  over  again.  Places  were 
made  for  new  joints,  and  I  think  the  new  joints  were 
temporarily  set  in,  for  my  arms  and  legs  went  into 
angles  I  had  never  before  seen  them  in,  nor  have  I 
since  been  able  to  assume  those  startling  attitudes. 
The  stomach  was  then  kneaded  like  dough.  The 
ribs  were  crushed  down  against  the  spine,  and  then 
forced  out  by  well-directed  blows  in  the  back.  The 
spinal  column  was  undoubtedly  abstracted,  and  some 
mechanical  substitute  now  does  its  best  to  help  me 
through  the  world.  The  arms  were  tied  in  bow- 
knots  behind,  and  the  skull  cracked  like  the  shell  of 
a  hard-boiled  egg,  worked  into  shape  again,  and  left 
to  heal. 

By  this  time  I  was  unconscious,  and  for  an  hour 
my  sleep  promised  to  be  eternal.  I  must  have  lain 
flat  on  the  matting,  without  a  curve  in  me,  when 
Nature,  taking  pity,  gradually  let  me  rise  and  as- 


I2O  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

sume  my  own  proportions,  as  though  a  little  leaven 
had  been  mixed  in  my  making  over. 

The  awakening  was  like  coming  from  a  bath  01 
the  elements.  I  breathed  to  the  tips  of  my  toes. 
Perfumes  penetrated  me  till  I  was  saturated  with 
them.  I  felt  a  thousand  years  younger  ;  and  as  I 
looked  back  upon  the  old  life  I  seemed  to  have  risen 
from,  I  thought  of  it  much  as  a  butterfly  must  think 
of  his  grub-hood,  and  was  in  the  act  of  expanding 
my  wings,  when  I  saw  Felix  just  recovering,  a  few 
feet  from  me,  apparently  as  ecstatic  as  myself.  I 
never  dared  to  ask  him  how  he  was  reduced  to  sub- 
mission, for  I  little  imagined  he  could  so  far  forget 
himself.  There  are  some  sudden  and  inexplicable 
revolutions  in  the  affairs  of  humanity  that  should 
not  be  looked  into  too  closely,  because  a  chaotic 
chasm  yawns  between  the  old  man  and  the  new, 
which  no  one  has  ever  yet  explored.  Felix  sprang 
to  his  feet  like  Prometheus  unbound,  and  embraced 
me  with  fervor,  as  one  might  after  a  hair-breadth 
escape,  exclaiming,  "Did  you  ever  see  anything  like 
it,  Old  Boy?"  to  which  the  Old  Boy,  thus  familiarly 
addressed  (O.  B.  is  a  pet  monogram  of  mine,  designed 
and  frequently  executed  by  Felix),  responded, 
"  There  wasn't  much  to  see,  but  my  feelings  were 
past  expression."  "  What's  its  name  ?  "  asked  Felix. 
"  I  think  they  call  it  lomi-lomi,"  said  I.  "  Pass/owu- 
lomi ! "  shouted  Felix ;  and  then  we  both  roared 
again,  which  summoned  the  host,  who  congratulated 
us  and  invited  us  to  his  canoe. 

Felix  again  endeavored  to  fathom  the  mysteries  of 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS  OF   VVAIPIO       121 

the  hula-hula.  Was  it  something  to  eat  ? — did  they 
keep  it  tied  in  the  daytime  ? — what  was  its  color  ? 
etc.,  till  the  amused  gentleman  who  was  conducting 
us  to  an  exhibition  of  the  great  Unknown  nearly  cap- 
sized our  absurdly  narrow  canoe  in  fe  very  deepest 
part  of  the  creek.  Bands  of  fishermt  and  fisher- 
women  passed  us,  wading  breast-high  i  the  water, 
beating  it  into  a  foam  before  them,  an  singing  at 
the  top  of  their  voices  as  they  drove  the*  fish  down 
stream  into  a  broad  net  a  few  rods  below.  Grass- 
houses,  half  buried  in  foliage,  lined  the  mossy  banks  ; 
while  the  dusky  groups  of  women  and  children,  clus- 
tering about  the  smouldering  flames  that  betokened 
the  preparation  of  the  evening  meal,  added  not  a 
little  to  the  poetry  of  twilight  in  the  tropics. 

Felix  thought  he  would  like  to  turn  Kanaka  on 
the  spot ;  so  we  beached  the  canoe,  and  approached 
the  fire,  built  on  a  hollow  stone  under  a  tamarind- 
tree,  and  were  at  once  offered  the  cleanest  mat  to 
sit  on,  and  a  calabash  of  poi  for  our  refreshment. 
How  to  eat  paste  without  a  spoon  was  the  next 
question.  The  whole  family  volunteered  to  sho^w 
us  ;  drew  up  around  the  calabash  in  a  hungry  circle;- 
and  dipped  in  with  a  vengeance.  Six  right  handrt 
spread  their  first  and  second  fingers  like  sign-boards' 
pointing  to  a  focus  in  the  very  centre  of  that  poi- 
paste  ;  six  fists  dove  simultaneously,  and  were  bur- 
ied in  the  luscious  mass.  There  was  a  spasmodic 
working  in  the  elbows,  an  effort  to  come  to  the  top, 
and  in  a  moment  the  hands  were  lifted  aloft  in  tri- 
umph, and  seemed  to  be  tracing  half  a  dozen  capital 


122  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

O's  in  the  transparent  air,  during  which  manoeu- 
vre the  mass  of  poi  adhering  to  the  fingers  assumed 
fair  proportions,  resembling,  to  a  remarkable  degree, 
large,  white  rsvellings ;  whereupon  they  were  im- 
mediately cor  ?eyed  to  the  several  mouths,  instinct- 
ively getting  into  the  right  one,  and,  having'  dis- 
charged freight,  reappeared  as  good  as  ever,  if  not 
better  than  before. 

"  Disgusting  ! "  gasped  Felix,  as  he  returned  to 
the  water-side.  I  thought  him  unreasonable  in  his 
harsh  judgment,  assuring  him  that  our  own  flour 
was  fingered  as  often  before  it  came,  at  last,  to  our 
lips  in  the  form  of  bread.  "  Moreover,"  I  added, 
"this poi  is  glutinous  :  the  moment  a  finger  enters 
it,  a  thin  coating  adheres  to  the  skin,  and  that  finger 
may  wander  about  the  calabash  all  day  without 
touching  another  particle  of  the  substance.  There- 
fore, six  or  sixteen  fellows  fingering  in  one  dish  for 
dinner  are  in  reality  safer  than  we,  who  eat  steaks 
that  have  been  mesmerized  under  the  hands  of  the 
butcher  and  the  cook." 

Felix  scorned  to  reply,  but  breathed  a  faint  pray- 
er for  a  safe  return  to  Chicago,  as  we  slid  into  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  and  resumed  our  course. 

The  boughs  of  densely  leaved  trees  reached  out  to 
one  another  across  the  water.  We  proceeded  with 
more  caution  as  the  channel  grew  narrow  ;  and, 
pressing  through  a  submerged  thicket  of  reeds,  we 
routed  a  flock  of  water-fowls  that  wheeled  overhead 
on  heavy  wings,  filling  the  valley  with  their  clamor. 

Two  or  three  doga  barked  sleepily  off  somewhere 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS   OF   WAIPIO       123 

in  the  darkness,  and  the  voice  of  some  one  calling 
floated  to  us  as  clear  as  a  bird's  note,  though  we 
knew  it  must  be  far  away.  We  strode  through  a 
cane-field,  its  smoky  plumes  just  tipped  with  moon- 
light, and  saw  the  pinnacle  of  Mauna  Kea,  as  spa- 
cious and  splendid  as  the  fairy  pavilion  that  Nourgi- 
han  brought  to  Pari-Banou,  illuminated  as  for  a 
festival.  To  the  left,  a  stream  fell  from  the  cliff,  a 
ribbon  of  gauze  fluttering  noiselessly  in  the  wind. 

"  O,  look  !  "  said  Felix,  who  had  yielded  again  to 
the  influences  of  Nature.  Looking,  I  saw  the  moon 
resting  upon  the  water  for  a  moment,  while  the 
dew  seemed  actually  to  drip  from  her  burnished 
disk.  Again  Felix  exclaimed,  or  was  on  the  point  of 
exclaiming,  when  he  checked  himself  in  awe.  I  ran 
to  him  and  was  silent  with  him,  while  we  two  stood 
worshipping  one  stately  palm  that  rested  its  glorious 
head  upon  the  glowing  bosom  of  the  moon,  like  the 
Virgin  in  the  radiant  aureola. 

"  Well,"  said  our  host,  "  supposing  we  get  along ! " 
We  got  along,  by  land  and  water,  into  a  village  in 
an  orange- grove.  There  was  a  subdued  murmur  of 
many  voices.  I  think  the  whole  community  would 
have  burst  out  into  a  song  of  some  sort  at  the 
slightest  provocation.  On  we  paced,  in  Indian  file, 
through  narrow  lanes,  under  the  shining  leaves. 
Pale  blossoms  rained  down  upon  us,  and  the  air  was 
oppressively  sweet.  Groups  of  natives  sat  in  the 
lanes,  smoking  and  laughing.  Lovers  made  love  in 
the  face  of  heaven,  utterly  unconscious  of  any  human 
presence.  Felix  grew  nervous,  and  proposed  with- 


124  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

drawing ;  but  whither,  O  Felix,  in  all  these  islands, 
wouldst  thou  hope  to  find  love  unrequited,  or  lovers 
shamefaced  withal?  Much  Chicago  hath  made  thee 
mad ! 

Through  a  wicket  we  passed,  where  a  sentinel 
kept  ward.  Within  the  bamboo  paling,  a  swarm  of 
natives  gathered  about  us,  first  questioning  the 
nature  of  our  visit,  which  having  proved  entirely  sat- 
isfactory, we  were  welcomed  in  real  earnest,  and 
offered  a  mat  in  an  inner  room  of  a  large  house 
rather  superior  to  the  average,  and  a  disagreeable 
liquor — brewed  of  oranges,  very  intoxicating  when 
not  diluted,  and  therefore  popular. 

We  were  evidently  the  lions  of  the  hour,  for  we 
sat  in  the  centre  of  the  first  row  of  spectators  who 
were  gathered  to  witness  the  hula-hula.  We  re- 
clined as  gracefully  as  possible  upon  our  mats,  sup- 
ported by  plump  pillows,  stuffed  with  dried  ferns. 
Slender  rushes — strong  with  kukui-nuts,  about  the 
'ize  of  chestnuts,  and  very  oily  —  were  planted 
before  us  like  foot-lights,  which,  being  lighted  at 
the  top,  burned  slowly  downward,  till  the  whole 
were  consumed,  giving  a  good  flame  for  several 
hours. 

The  great  mat  upon  the  floor  before  us  was  the 
stage.  On  one  side  of  it  a  half-dozen  muscular  fel- 
lows were  squatted,  with  large  calabashes  headed 
with  tightly  drawn  goat-skins.  These  were  the 
drummers  and  singers,  who  could  beat  nimbly  with 
their  fingers,  and  sing  the  epics  of  their  country,  to 
the  unceasing  joy  of  all  listeners.  "It's  an  opera  I " 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS   OF   WAIPIO       12$ 

shouted  Felix,  in  a  frenzy  of  delight  at  his  discovery. 
A  dozen  performers  entered,  sitting  in  two  lines, 
face  to  face — six  women  and  six  men.  Each  bore  a 
long  joint  of  bamboo,  slit  at  one  end  like  a  broom. 
Then  began  a  singularly  intricate  exercise,  called 
pi-ulu.  Taking  a  bamboo  in  one  hand,  they  struck 
it  in  the  palm  of  the  other,  on  the  shoulder,  on  the 
floor  in  front,  to  left  and  right ;  thrust  it  out  before 
them,  and  were  parried  by  the  partners  opposite ; 
crossed  it  over  and  back,  and  turned  in  a  thousand 
ways  to  a  thousand  metres,  varied  with  chants  and 
pauses.  "  Then  it's  a  pantomime,"  added  Felix, 
getting  interested  in  the  unusual  skill  displayed. 
For  half  an  hour  or  more  the  thrashing  of  the  bam- 
boos was  prolonged,  while  we  were  hopelessly  con- 
fused in  our  endeavors  to  follow  the  barbarous  har- 
mony, which  was  never  broken  nor  disturbed  by  the 
expert  and  tireless  performers. 

During  the  first  rest,  liquor  was  served  in  gourds. 
Part  of  the  company  withdrew  to  smoke,  and  the 
conversation  became  general  and  noisy.  Felix  was 
enthusiastic,  and  drank  the  health  of  some  of  the 
younger  members  of  the  troupe  who  had  offered  him 
the  gourd. 

A  rival  company  then  repeated  the  pi-ulu,  with 
some  additions ;  the  gourds  were  again  filled  and 
emptied.  "Now  for  the  hula-hula"  said  the  host, 
who  had  imbibed  with  Felix,  though  he  reserved 
his  enthusiasm  for  something  less  childish  than  pi- 
ulu.  It  is  the  national  dance,  taught  to  all  children 
by  their  parents,  but  so  difficult  to  excel  in  that  the 


126  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

few  who  perfect  themselves  can  afford  to  travel  on 
this  one  specialty. 

There  was  a  murmur  of  impatience,  speedily 
checked,  and  followed  by  a  burst  of  applause,  as  a 
band  of  beautiful  girls,  covered  with  wreaths  of  flow- 
ers and  vines,  entered  and  seated  themselves  before 
us.  While  the  musicians  beat  an  introductory  over- 
ture upon  the  tom-toms,  the  dancers  proceeded  to 
bind  shawls  and  scarfs  about  their  waists,  turban- 
fashion.  They  sat  in  a  line,  facing  us,  a  foot  or  two 
apart.  The  loose  sleeves  of  their  dresses  were 
caught  up  at  the  shoulder,  exposing  arms  of  almost 
perfect  symmetry,  while  their  bare  throats  were 
scarcely  hidden  by  the  necklaces  of  jasmines  that 
coiled  about  them. 

Then  the  leader  of  the  band,  who  sat,  grayheaded 
and  wrinkled,  at  one  end  of  the  room,  throwing  back 
his  head,  uttered  a  long,  wild,  and  shrill  guttural — 
a  sort  of  invocation  to  the  goddess  of  the  hula- hula. 
There  had,  no  doubt,  been  some  sort  of  sacrifice 
offered  in  the  early  part  of  the  evening — such  as  a 
pig  or  a  fowl — for  the  dance  has  a  religious  sig- 
nificance, and  is  attended  by  its  appropriate  ceremo- 
nies. When  this  clarion  cry  had  ended,  the  dance 
began,  all  joining  in  with  wonderfully  accurate 
rhythm,  the  body  swaying  slowly  backward  and  for- 
ward, to  left  and  right ;  the  arms  tossing,  or  rather 
waving,  in  the  air  above  the  head,  now  beckoning 
some  spirit  of  light,  so  tender  and  seductive  were 
the  emotions  of  the  dancers,  so  graceful  and  free 
the  movements  of  the  wrists  ;  now,  in  violence  and 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS   OF   WAIPIO 

fear,  they  seemed  to  repulse  a  host  of  devils  that 
hovered  invisibly  about  them. 

The  spectators  watched  and  listened  breathlessly, 
fascinated  by  the  terrible  wildness  of  the  song  and 
the  monotonous  thrumming  of  the  accompaniment 
Presently  the  excitement  increased.  Swifter  and 
more  wildly  the  bare  arms  beat  the  air,  embracing, 
as  it  were,  the  airy  forms  that  haunted  the  dancers, 
who  rose  to  their  knees,  and,  with  astonishing  agil- 
ity, caused  the  clumsy  turbans  about  their  loins  to 
quiver  with  an  undulatory  motion,  increasing  or  de- 
creasing with  the  sentiment  of  the  song  and  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  spectators. 

Felix  wanted  to  know  "how long  they  could  keep 
that  up  and  live  ?  " 

Till  daybreak,  as  we  found  !  There  was  a  little 
resting  -  spell  —  a  very  little  resting  -  spell,  now  and 
then — for  the  gourd's  sake,  or  three  whiffs  at  a  pipe 
that  would  poison  a  white  man  in  ten  minutes ; 
and  before  we  half  expected  it,  or  had  a  thought 
of  urging  the  unflagging  dancers  to  renew  their 
marvellous  gyrations,  they  were  at  it  in  terrible 
earnest. 

From  the  floor  to  their  knees,  from  their  knees  to 
their  feet,  now  facing  us,  now  turning  from  us,  they 
spun  and  ambled,  till  the  ear  was  deafened  with 
cheers  and  boisterous,  half-drunken,  wholly  passion- 
ate laughter. 

The  room  whirled  with  the  reeling  dancers,  who 
seemed  encircled  with  living  serpents  in  the  act  of 
swallowing  big  lumps  of  something  from  their 


128  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

throats  clear  to  the  tips  of  their  tails,  and  the  con- 
vulsions continued  till  the  hysterical  dancers  stag- 
gered and  fell  to  the  floor,  overcome  by  unutterable 
fatigue. 

The  sympathetic  Felix  fell  with  them,  his  head 
sinking  under  one  of  the  rush  candles,  that  must 
have  burned  into  his  brain  had  he  been  suffered  to 
immolate  himself  at  that  inappropriate  and  unholy- 
time  and  place. 

This  was  the  seductive  dance  still  practised  in 
secret,  though  the  law  forbids  it ;  and  to  the  Ha- 
waiian it  is  more  beautiful,  because  more  sensuous, 
than  anything  else  in  the  world. 

I  proposed  departing  at  this  stage  of  the  festival, 
but  Felix  said  it  was  not  practicable.  He  felt  un- 
well, and  suggested  the  efficacy  of  another  attack 
of  lomi-lomi. 

A  slight  variation  in  the  order  of  the  dances  fol- 
lowed. A  young  lover,  seated  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  beat  a  tattoo  upon  his  calabash  and  sang  a 
song  of  love.  In  a  moment  he  was  answered.  Out 
of  the  darkness  rose  the  sweet,  shrill  voice  of  the 
loved  one.  Nearer  and  nearer  it  approached  ;  the 
voice  rang  clear  and  high,  melodiously  swelling 
upon  the  air.  It  must  have  been  heard  far  off  in 
the  valley,  it  was  so  plaintive  and  penetrating.  Se- 
creted at  first  behind  shawls  hung  in  the  corner  of 
the  room,  some  dramatic  effect  was  produced  by 
her  entrance  at  the  right  moment.  She  enacted 
her  part  with  graceful  energy.  To  the  regular  and 
melancholy  thrumming  of  the  calabash,  she  sang 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS  OF   WAIPIO       1 29 

her  song  of  love.  Yielding  to  her  emotion,  she  did 
not  hesitate  to  betray  all,  neither  was  he  of  the  cala- 
bash slow  to  respond  ;  and,  scorning  the  charms  of 
goat-skin  and  gourd,  he  sprang  toward  her  in  the 
madness  of  his  soul,  when  she,  having  reached  the 
climax  of  desperation,  was  hurried  from  the  scene 
of  her  conquest  amid  whirlwinds  of  applause. 

"  It's  a  dance,  that's  what  it  is  !  "  muttered  Felix, 
as  the  audience  began  slowly  to  disperse.  Leading 
him  back  to  the  canoe,  we  had  the  whole  night's 
orgie  reported  to  us  in  a  very  mixed  and  reiterative 
manner  ;  as  well  as  several  attempts  at  illustrating 
the  peculiarities  of  the  performance,  which  came 
near  resulting  in  a  watery  grave  for  three,  or  an 
upset  canoe,  at  any  rate.  Our  host,  to  excuse  any 
impropriety,  for  which  he  felt  more  or  less  responsi- 
ble, said  "it  was  so  natural  for  them  to  be  jolly 
under  all  circumstances  that  when  they  have  con- 
cluded to  die  they  make  their  P.  P.  C/s  with  in- 
finite grace,  and  then  die  on  time." 

Of  course  they  are  jolly  ;  and  to  prove  it,  I  told 
Felix  how  the  lepers,  who  had  been  banished  to 
one  little  corner  of  the  kingdom,  and  forbidden  to 
leave  there  in  the  flesh,  were  as  merry  as  the  merri- 
est, and  once  upon  a  time  those  decaying  remnants 
of  humanity  actually  gave  a  grand  ball  in  their  hos- 
pital. There  was  a  general  clearing  out  of  disabled 
patients,  and  a  brushing  up  of  old  finery,  while  thk 
ball  itself  was  the  topic  of  conversation.  Two  or 
three  young  fellows,  who  had  a  few  fingers  left  (they 
unjoint  and  drop  off  as  the  disease  progresses),  be- 
9 


I3O  SOUTH' SEA   IDYLS 

gan  to  pick  up  a  tune  or  two  on  bamboo  flutes. 
Old,  young,  and  middle-aged  took  a  sly  turn  in 
some  dark  corner,  getting  their  stiffened  joints  lim- 
ber again. 

Night  came  at  last.  The  lamps  flamed  in  the 
death-chamber  of  the  lazar-house.  Many  a  rejoic- 
ing soul  had  fled  from  that  foul  spot,  to  flash  its 
white  wings  in  the  eternal  sunshine. 

At  an  early  hour  the  strange  company  assembled. 
The  wheezing  of  voices  no  longer  musical,  the 
shuffling  of  half-paralyzed  limbs  over  the  bare  floor, 
the  melancholy  droning  of  those  bamboo  flutes,  and 
the  wild  sea  moaning  in  the  wild  night  were  the 
sweetest  sounds  that  greeted  them.  And  while  the 
flutes  piped  dolorously  to  this  unlovely  spectacle, 
there  was  a  rushing  to  and  fro  of  unlovely  figures  ; 
a  bleeding,  half-blind  leper,  seizing  another  of  the 
accursed  beings — snatching  her,  as  it  were,  from 
the  grave,  in  all  her  loathsome  clay — dragged  her 
into  the  bewildering  maelstrom  of  the  waltz. 

Naturally  excitable,  heated  with  exertion,  drunk 
with  the  very  odors  of  death  that  pervaded  the  hall 
of  revels,  that  mad  crowd  reeled  through  the  hours 
of  the  fdte.  Satiated,  at  last,  in  the  very  bitterness 
of  their  unnatural  gayety,  they  called  for  the  hula- 
hula  as  a  fitting  close. 

In  that  reeking  atmosphere,  heavy  with  the  smoke 
of  half-extinguished  lamps,  they  fed  on  the  voluptu- 
ous abandon  of  the  dancers  till  passion  itself  fainted 
with  exhaustion. 

"That  was  a  dance  of  death,  was  it  not,  Felix?" 


THE  NIGHT-DANCERS  OF   WAIPIO        l^\ 

Felix  lay  on  his  mat,  sleeping  heavily,  and  evidently 
unmindful  of  a  single  word  I  had  uttered. 

Our  time  was  up  at  daybreak,  and,  with  an  end- 
less deal  of  persuasion,  Felix  followed  me  out  of  the 
valley  to  the  little  chapel  on  the  cliff.  Our  horses 
took  a  breath  there,  and  so  did  we,  bird's-eying  the 
scene  of  the  last  night's  orgie. 

Who  says  it  isn't  a  delicious  spot — that  deep,  nar- 
row, and  secluded  vale,  walled  by  almost  perpen- 
dicular cliffs,  hung  with  green  tapestries  of  ferns 
and  vines;  that  slender  stream,  like  a  thread  of 
silver,  embroidering  a  carpet  of  Nature's  richest 
pattern ;  that  torrent,  leaping  from  the  cliff  into  a 
garden  of  citrons  ;  the  sea  sobbing  at  its  mouth, 
while  wary  mariners,  coasting  in  summer  after- 
noons, catch  glimpses  of  the  tranquil  and  forbidden 
paradise,  yet  are  heedless  of  all  its  beauty,  and  reck 
not  the  rustling  of  the  cane-fields  nor  the  voices  of 
the  charmers,  because — because  these  things  are  so 
common  in  that  latitude  that  one  grows  naturally 
indifferent ! 

As  for  Felix,  who  talks  in  his  sleep  of  the  hula- 
hula,  and  insists  that  only  by  the  lomi-lomi  'he  shall 
be  saved,  he  points  a  moral,  though  at  present  he  is 
scarcely  in  a  condition  to  adorn  any  tale  whatever  ; 
and  said  moral  I  shall  be  glad  to  furnish,  on  appli- 
cation, to  any  sympathetic  soul  who  has  witnessed 
by  proxy  the  unlawful  revels  of  those  night-dances 
of  Waipio. 


PEARL- HUNTING   IN    THE    POMO- 
TOUS 

r  I  THE  Great  Western  ducked  in  the  heavy  swell, 
-L  shipping  her  regular  deck-load  of  salt-water 
every  six  minutes.  Now,  the  Great  Western  was 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  seventeen-ton  schooner, 
two  hours  out  from  Tahiti.  She  was  built  like  an 
old  shoe,  and  shovelled  in  a  head-sea  as  though  it 
was  her  business. 

It  was  something  like  sea  life,  wading  along  her 
submerged  deck  from  morning  till  night,  with  a  piece 
of  raw  junk  in  one  hand  and  a  briny  biscuit  in  the 
other ;  we  never  could  keep  a  fire  in  that  galley,  and 
as  for  hard  tack,  the  sooner  it  got  soaked  through 
the  sooner  it  was  off  our  minds,  for  we  knew  to  this 
complexion  it  must  shortly  come. 

Two  hours  out  from  Tahiti  we  settled  our  course, 
wafting  a  theatrical  kiss  or  two  toward  the  glori- 
ously green  pyramid  we  were  turning  our  backs  on, 
as  it  slowly  vanished  in  the  blue  desert  of  the  sea. 

A  thousand  palm  -  crowned  and  foam  -  girdled 
reefs  spangled  the  ocean  to  the  north  and  east  of 
Tahiti  This  train  of  lovely  satellites  is  known  as 
the  Dangerous  Archipelago,  or,  more  commonly  in 
that  latitude,  the  Pomotou  Islands.  It's  the  very 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     133 

hot-bed  of  cocoanut-oil,  pearls,  half- famished  Kana- 
kas, shells,  and  shipwrecks.  The  currents  are  rapid 
and  variable;  the  winds  short,  sharp,  and  equally 
unreliable.  If  you  would  have  adventure,  the  real 
article  and  plenty  of  it,  make  your  will,  bid  farewell 
to  home  and  friends,  and  embark  for  the  Pomotous. 
I  started  on  this  principle,  and  repented  knee-deep 
in  the  deck-breakers,  as  we  butted  our  way  through 
the  billows,  bound  for  one  of  the  Pomotous  on  a 
pearl  hunt. 

Three  days  I  sat  in  sackcloth  and  salt  water. 
Three  nights  I  swashed  in  my  greasy  bunk,  like  a 
solitary  sardine  in  a  box  with  the  side  knocked  out. 
In  my  heart  of  hearts  I  prayed  for  deliverance :  you 
see  there  is  no  backing  out  of  a  schooner,  unless 
you  crave  death  in  fifty  fathoms  of  phosphores- 
cent liquor  and  a  grave  in  a  shark's  maw.  There- 
fore I  prayed  for  more  wind  from  the  right  quarter, 
for  a  sea  like  a  boundless  mill-pond ;  in  short,  for 
speedy  deliverance  on  the  easiest  terms  possible. 
Notwithstanding  my  prayers,  we  continued  to  bang 
away  at  the  great  waves  that  crooked  their  backs 
under  us  and  hissed  frightfully  as  they  enveloped 
the  Great  Western  with  spray  until  the  fourth  night 
out,  when  the  moon  gladdened  us  and  promised 
much  while  we  held  our  breath  in  anxiety. 

We  were  looking  for  land.  We'd  been  looking 
for  three  hours,  scarcely  speaking  all  that  time.  It's 
a  serious  matter  raising  a  Pornotou  by  moonlight. 

"  Land ! "  squeaked  a  weak  voice  about  six  feet 
above  us.  A  lank  fellow,  with  his  legs  corkscrewed 


134  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

around  the  shrouds,  and  his  long  neck  stretched  to 
windward,  where  it  veered  like  a  weather-cock  in  a 
nor' wester,  chuckled  as  he  sang  out  "  Land  !  "  and 
felt  himself  a  little  lower  than  Christopher  Colum- 
bus thereafter.  "Where  away?"  bellowed  our 
chunky  little  captain,  as  important  as  if  he  were 
commanding  a  grown-up  ship.  "  Two  points  on  the 
weather-bow  ! "  piped  the  lookout,  with  the  voice 
of  one  soaring  in  space,  but  unhappily  choked  in  the 
last  word  by  a  sudden  lurch  of  the  schooner  that 
brought  him  speedily  to  the  deck,  where  he  lost  his 
identity  and  became  a  proper  noun,  second  person, 
singular,  for  the  rest  of  the  cruise. 

Now,  "  two  points  "  is  an  indefinite  term  that  em- 
braces any  obstacle  ahead  of  anything  ;  but  the 
"  weather- bow "  has  been  the  salvation  of  many  a 
craft  in  her  distress ;  so  we  gave  three  cheers  for 
the  "  weather-bow,"  and  proceeded  to  sweep  the 
horizon  with  unwinking  gaze.  We  could  scarcely 
tell  how  near  the  land  might  lie  ;  fancied  we  could 
already  hear  the  roar  of  surf-beaten  reefs,  and  every 
wave  that  reared  before  us  seemed  the  rounded  out- 
line of  an  island.  Of  course  we  shortened  sail,  not 
knowing  at  what  moment  we  might  find  ourselves 
close  upon  some  low  sea-garden  nestling  under  the 
rim  of  breakers  that  fenced  it  in,  and  being  morally 
averse  to  running  it  down  without  warning. 

It  was  scarcely  midnight  ;  the  moon  was  radiant ; 
we  were  silently  watching,  wrapped  in  the  deep  mys- 
tery that  hung  over  the  weather-bow. 

The  wind  suddenly  abated  ;  it  was  as  though  it 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     135 

sifted  through  trees  and  came  to  us  subdued  with 
a  whisper  of  fluttering  leaves  and  a  breath  of  spice. 
We  knew  what  it  meant,  and  our  hearts  leaped 
within  us  as  over  the  bow  loomed  the  wave-like  out- 
line of  shadow  that  sank  not  again  like  the  other 
waves,  neither  floated  off  cloud-like,  but  seemed  to 
be  bearing  steadily  down  upon  us  —  a  great  whale 
hungry  for  a  modern  Jonah. 

What  a  night  it  was!  We  heard  the  howl  of 
waters  now;  saw  the  palm -boughs  glisten  in  the 
moonlight,  and  the  glitter  and  the  flash  of  foam  that 
fringed  the  edges  of  the  half-drowned  islet. 

It  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  grove  of  cocoa- 
trees  that  had  waded  out  of  sight  of  land,  and  didn't 
know  which  way  to  turn  next.  This  was  the  Ultima 
Thule  of  the  Great  Western's  voyage,  and  she 
seemed  to  know  it,  for  she  behaved  splendidly  at 
last,  laying  off  and  on  till  morning  in  fine  style,  evi- 
dently as  proud  as  a  ship-of-the-line. 

I  went  below  and  dozed,  with  the  low  roar  of 
the  reef  quite  audible  :  a  fellow  gets  used  to  such 
dream -music,  and  sleeps  well  to  its  accompani- 
ment. 

At  daybreak  we  began  beating  up  against  wind 
and  tide,  hoping  to  work  into  smooth  water  by  sun- 
rise, which  we  did  easily  enough,  shaking  hands  all 
around  over  a  cup  of  thick  coffee  and  molasses  as 
three  fathoms  of  chain  whizzed  overboard  after  a 
tough  little  anchor  that  buried  itself  in  a  dim  wil- 
derness of  corals  and  sea-grass. 

Then  and  there  I  looked  about  me  with  delighted 


136  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

eyes.  The  Great  Western  rode  at  anchor  in  a  shal- 
low lake,  whose  crystal  depths  seemed  never  to  have 
been  agitated  by  any  harsher  breath  than  at  that 
moment  kissed  without  ruffling  its  surface.  Around 
us  swept  an  amphitheatre  of  hills,  covered  with  a 
dense  growth  of  tropical  foliage  and  cushioned  to 
the  hem  of  the  beach  with  thick  sod  of  exquisite 
tint  and  freshness.  The  narrow  rim  of  beach  that 
sloped  suddenly  to  the  tideless  margin  of  the  lake 
was  littered  with  numberless  slender  canoes  drawn 
out  of  the  water  like  so  many  fish,  as  though  they 
would  navigate  themselves  in  their  natural  element, 
and  they  were,  therefore,  not  to  be  trusted  alone  too 
near  it.  Around  the  shore,  across  the  hills,  and 
along  the  higher  ridges  waved  innumerable  cocoa- 
palms,  planted  like  a  legion  of  lances  about  the  en- 
campment of  some  barbaric  prince. 

As  for  the  very  blue  sky  and  the  very  white  scud 
that  shot  across  it,  they  looked  windy  enough ; 
moreover  we  could  all  hear  the  incoherent  booming 
of  the  sea  upon  the  reef  that  encircled  our  nest. 
But  we  forgot  the  wind  and  the  waves  in  the  inex- 
pressible repose  of  that  armful  of  tropical  seclusion. 
It  was  a  drop  of  water  in  a  tuft  of  moss,  on  a  very 
big  scale  ;  that's  just  what  it  was. 

In  a  few  moments,  as  with  one  impulse,  the 
canoes  took  to  water  with  a  savage  or  two  in  each, 
all  gravitating  to  the  schooner,  which  was  for  the 
time  being  the  head-centre  of  their  local  commerce  , 
and  for  an  hour  or  more  we  did  a  big  business  in 
the  exchange  of  fish-hooks  and  fresh  fruit. 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     137 

The  proportion  of  canoes  at  Motu  Hilo  (Crescent 
Island)  to  the  natives  of  said  fragment  of  Eden  was 
as  one  to  several ;  but  the  canoeless  could  not  resist 
the  superior  attraction  of  a  foreign  invader,  there- 
fore the  rest  of  the  inhabitants  went  head-first  into 
the  lake,  and  struck  out  for  the  middle,  where  we 
peacefully  swung  at  anchor. 

The  place  was  sharky,  but  a  heavy  dirk  full 
twenty  inches  tall  was  held  between  the  teeth  of  the 
swimmers  ;  and  if  the  smoke-colored  dorsal  of  any 
devil  of  a  shark  had  dared  to  cut  the  placid  surface 
of  the  water  that  morning,  he  would  speedily  have 
had  more  blades  in  him  than  a  farrier's  knife.  A 
few  vigorous  strokes  of  the  arms  and  legs  in  the 
neighborhood,  a  fatal  lunge  or  two,  a  vermilion 
cloud  in  a  sea  churned  to  a  cream,  and  a  dance  over 
the  gaping  corpse  of  some  monster  who  has  sucked 
human  blood  more  than  once,  probably,  does  the 
business  in  that  country. 

It  was  a  sensation  for  unaccustomed  eyes,  that  in- 
land sea  covered,  littered,  I  might  say,  with  woolly 
heads,  as  though  a  cargo  of  cocoanuts  had  been 
thrown  overboard  in  a  stress  of  weather.  They 
gathered  about  as  thick  as  flies  at  a  honey-pot,  all 
talking,  laughing,  and  spouting  mouthf  uls  of  water 
into  the  air  like  those  impossible  creatures  that  do 
that  sort  of  thing  by  the  half-dozen  in  all  high-toned 
and  classical  fountains. 

Out  of  this  amphibious  mob  one  gigantic  youth, 
big  enough  to  eat  half  our  ship's  crew,  threw  up  an 
arm  like  Jove's,  clinched  the  deck-rail  with  lithe  fin- 


138  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

gers,  and  took  a  rest,  swinging  there  with  the  ut» 
most  satisfaction. 

I  asked  him  aboard,  but  he  scorned  to  forsake  his 
natural  element ;  water  is  as  natural  as  air  to  those 
natives.  Probably  he  would  have  suffered  financial- 
ly had  he  attempted  boarding  us,  for  his  thick  black 
hair  was  netted  with  a  kind  of  spacious  nest  and 
filled  with  eggs  on  sale.  It  was  quite  astonishing 
to  see  the  ease  with  which  he  navigated  under  his 
heavy  deck-load. 

This  colossal  youth  having  observed  that  I  was  an 
amateur  humanitarian,  virtue  received  its  instant 
reward  (which  it  doesn't  in  all  climates),  for  he  at 
once  offered  me  three  of  his  eggs  in  a  very  winning 
and  patronizing  manner. 

I  took  the  eggs  because  I  like  eggs,  and  then  I 
was  anxious  to  get  his  head  above  water  if  possi- 
ble ;  therefore  I  unhesitatingly  took  the  eggs,  offer- 
ing him  in  return  a  fish-hook,  a  tenpenny  nail,  and 
a  dilapidated  key-ring. 

These  tempting  curios  he  spurned,  at  the  same 
moment  reaching  me  another  handful  of  eggs.  His 
generosity  both  pleased  and  alarmed  me.  I  saw 
with  joy  that  his  chin  was  quite  out  of  water  in  con- 
sequence of  his  charity,  even  when  he  dropped  back 
into  the  sea,  floating  for  a  few  moments  so  as  to  let 
the  blood  circulate  in  his  arm  again  ;  but  whether 
this  was  his  magnanimous  gift,  or  merely  a  trap  to  in- 
volve me  in  hopeless  debt,  I  was  quite  at  a  loss  to 
know,  and  I  paused  with  my  hands  full  of  eggs,  say- 
ing to  myself,  There  is  an  end  to  fish-hooks  in  the 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     139 

South  Pacific  and  dilapidated  key-rings  are  not  my 
staple  product ! 

In  the  midst  of  my  alarm  he  began  making  vows 
of  eternal  friendship.  This  was  by  no  means  dis- 
agreeable to  me.  He  was  big  enough  to  whip  any 
two  of  his  fellows,  and  one  likes  to  be  on  the  best 
side  of  the  stronger  party  in  a  strange  land. 

I  reciprocated ! 

I  leaned  over  the  stern-rail  of  the  Great  Western 
in  the  attitude  of  Juliet  in  the  balcony  scene,  as- 
suring that  egg-boy  that  my  heart  was  his  if  he  was 
willing  to  take  it  at  second-hand. 

He  liked  my  sentiments,  and  proposed  touching 
noses  at  once  (a  barbarous  greeting  still  observed 
in  the  most  civilized  countries  with  even  greater  li- 
cense, since  with  Christians  it  is  allowable  to  touch 
mouths). 

We  touched  noses,  though  I  was  in  danger  of 
sliding  headlong  into  the  sea.  After  this  ceremonial 
he  consented  to  board  the  Great  Western,  which  hav- 
ing accomplished  with  my  help,  he  deposited  his 
eggs  at  my  feet,  offered  me  his  nose  once  more,  and 
communicated  to  me  his  name,  asking  in  the  same 
breath  for  mine. 

He  was  known  as  Hua  Manu,  or  Bird's  Egg. 
Every  native  in  the  South  Sea  gets  named  by  ac- 
cident. I  knew  a  fellow  whose  name  was  "  Cock- 
eye ; "  he  was  a  standing  advertisement  of  his  physi- 
cal deformity.  A  fellow  that  knew  me  rejoiced  in 
the  singular  cognomen  of  "  Thrown-from-a-horse." 
Fortunately  he  doesn't  spell  it  with  so  many  letters 


I4O  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

in  his  tongue.  His  christening  happened  in  this 
wise :  A  bosom  friend  of  his  mother  was  thrown 
from  a  horse  and  killed  the  day  of  his  birth.  There- 
fore the  bereaved  mother  reared  that  child,  an  ani- 
mated memorial,  who  in  after  years  clove  to  me,  and 
was  as  jolly  as  though  his  earthly  mission  wasn't 
simply  to  keep  green  the  memory  of  his  mother's 
bosom  friend  sailing  through  the  air  with  a  dislo- 
cated neck. 

I  turned  to  my  new-found  friend.  "Hua  Manu," 
said  I,  "  for  my  sake  you  have  made  a  bird's-nest  of 
your  back  hair.  You  have  freely  given  me  your 
young  affection  and  your  eggs.  Eeceive  the  sincere 
thanks  of  yours  truly,  together  with  these  fish-hooks, 
these  tenpenny  nails,  this  key-ring."  Hua  Manu 
smiled  and  accepted,  burying  the  fish-hooks  in  his 
matted  forelock,  and  inserting  a  tenpenny  nail  and 
a  key-ring  in  either  ear,  thereby  making  himself  the 
envy  of  the  entire  population  of  Motu  Hilo,  and 
feeling  himself  as  grand  as  the  best  chief  in  the 
archipelago. 

So  we  sat  together  on  the  deck  of  the  Great 
Western,  quite  dry  for  a  wonder,  exchanging  sheep's- 
eyes  and  confidences,  mutually  happy  in  each  other's 
society.  Meanwhile  the  captain  was  arranging  his 
plans  for  an  immediate  purchase  of  such  pearls  as 
he  might  find  in  possession  of  the  natives,  and  for  a 
fresh  search  for  pearl  oysters  at  the  earliest  possible 
hour.  There  were  no  pearls  on  hand.  What  are 
pearls  to  a  man  who  has  as  many  wives,  children,  and 
cocoauuts  as  he  can  dispose  of?  Pearls  are  small 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     141 

and  colorless.  Give  him  a  handful  of  gorgeous 
glass  beads,  a  stick  of  sealing-wax,  or  some  spotted 
beans,  and  keep  your  pale  sea-tears,  milky  and 
frozen  and  apt  to  grow  sickly  yellow  and  die  if  they 
are  not  cared  for. 

Motu  Hilo  is  independent.  No  man  has  squatted 
there  to  levy  tax  or  toll.  We  were  each  one  of  us 
privileged  to  hunt  for  pearls  and  keep  our  stores 
separate.  I  said  to  Hua  Manu,  "Let's  invest  in  a 
canoe,  explore  the  lagoon  for  fresh  oyster-beds,  and 
fill  innumerable  cocoanut  shells  with  these  little 
white  seeds.  It  will  be  both  pleasant  and  profitable, 
particularly  for  me."  We  were  scarcely  five  min- 
utes bargaining  for  our  outfit,  and  we  embarked  at 
once,  having  agreed  to  return  in  a  couple  of  days 
for  news  concerning  the  success  of  the  Great  West- 
ern and  her  probable  date  of  sailing. 

Seizing  a  paddle,  Hua  Manu  propelled  our  canoe 
with  incredible  rapidity  out  of  the  noisy  fleet  in 
the  centre  of  the  lake,  toward  a  green  point  that 
bounded  it,  one  of  the  horns  of  the  crescent.  He 
knew  a  spot  where  the  oyster  yawned  in  profusion, 
a  secret  cave  for  shelter,  a  forest  garden  of  fruits,  a 
never-failing  spring,  etc.  Thither  we  would  fly  and 
domesticate  ourselves.  The  long,  curved  point 
of  land  soon  hid  the  inner  waters  from  view.  We 
rose  and  sank  on  the  swell  between  the  great  reef 
and  the  outer  rim  of  the  island,  while  the  sun 
glowed  fiercely  overhead  and  the  reef  howled  in  our 
ears.  Still  on  we  skimmed,  the  water  hissing  along 
the  smooth  sides  of  the  canoe,  that  trembled  at 


142  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

every  fierce  stroke  of  Hua  Manu's  industrious  pad- 
dle. No  chart,  no  compass,  no  rudder,  no  exchange 
of  references,  no  letter  of  introduction,  yet  I  trusted 
that  wild  Hercules  who  was  hurrying  me  away,  I 
knew  not  whither,  with  an  earnestness  that  forced 
the  sweat  from  his  naked  body  in  living  streams. 

At  last  we  turned  our  prow  and  shot  through  a 
low  arch  in  a  cliff,  so  low  we  both  ducked  our  heads 
instinctively,  letting  the  vines  and  parasites  trail 
over  our  shoulders  and  down  our  backs. 

It  was  a  dark  passage  into  an  inner  cave  lit  from 
below — a  cave  filled  with  an  eternal  and  sunless  twi- 
light that  was  very  soothing  to  our  eyes  as  we  came 
in  from  the  glare  of  sea  and  sky. 

"  Look  !  "  said  Hua  Manu.  Overhead  rose  a 
compressed  dome  of  earth,  a  thick  matting  of  roots, 
coil  within  coil.  At  the  side  innumerable  ledges, 
shelves,  and  seams  lined  with  nests,  and  never  a  nest 
without  its  egg,  often  two  or  more  together.  Below 
us,  in  two  fathoms  of  crystal,  sunlit  and  luminous 
bowers  of  coral,  and  many  an  oyster  asleep  with  its 
mouth  open,  and  many  a  prismatic  fish  poising 
itself  with  palpitating  gills,  and  gauzy  fins  fanning 
the  water  incessantly. 

"  Hua  Manu !  "  I  exclaimed  in  rapture,  "  permit 
me  to  congratulate  you.  In  you  I  behold  a  regular 
South  Sea  Monte  Cristo,  and  no  less  magnificent 
title  can  do  you  justice."  Thereat  Hua  Manu 
laughed  immoderately,  which  laugh  having  run  out 
we  both  sat  in  our  canoe  and  silently  sucked  eggs 
for  some  moments. 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     143 

A  canoe-length  from  where  we  floated,  a  clear  rill 
stole  noiselessly  from  above,  mingling  its  sweet 
waters  with  the  sea  ;  on  the  roof  of  our  cavern 
fruits  flourished,  and  we  were  wholly  satisfied. 
After  such  a  lunch  as  ours  it  behooved  us  to  cease 
idling  and  dive  for  pearls.  So  Hua  Manu  knotted 
his  long  hair  tightly  about  his  forehead,  cautiously 
transferred  himself  from  the  canoe  to  the  water, 
floated  a  moment,  inhaling  a  wonderfully  long 
breath,  and  plunged  under.  How  he  struggled  to 
get  down  to  the  gaping  oysters,  literally  climbing 
down  head  first !  I  saw  his  dark  form  wrestling 
with  the  elements  that  strove  to  force  him  back  to 
the  surface,  crowding  him  out  into  the  air  again. 
He  seized  one  of  the  shells,  but  it  shut  immediately, 
and  he  tugged  and  jerked  and  wrenched  at  it  like  a 
young  demon  till  it  gave  way,  when  he  struck  out 
and  up  for  the  air.  All  this  seemed  an  age  to  me. 
I  took  full  twenty  breaths  while  he  was  down. 
Reaching  the  canoe,  he  dropped  the  great,  ugly- 
looking  thing  into  it,  and  hung  over  the  out-rigger 
gasping  for  breath  like  a  man  half  hanged.  He  was 
pale  about  the  mouth,  his  eyes  were  suffused  with 
blood,  blood  oozed  from  his  ears  and  nostrils  ;  his 
limbs,  gashed  with  the  sharp  corals,  bled  also.  The 
veins  of  his  forehead  looked  ready  to  burst,  and  as 
he  tightened  the  cords  of  hair  across  them  it  seemed 
his  only  salvation. 

I  urged  him  to  desist,  seeing  his  condition  and 
fearing  a  repetition  of  his  first  experience  ;  but  he 
would  go  once  more  ;  perhaps  there  was  no  pearl  in 


144  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

that  shell ;  he  wanted  to  get  me  a  pearl.  He  sank 
again  and  renewed  his  efforts  at  the  bottom  of  the 
sea.  I  scarcely  dared  to  count  the  minutes  now, 
nor  the  bubbles  that  came  up  to  me  like  little  bal- 
loons with  a  death-message  in  each.  Suppose  he 
were  to  send  his  last  breath  in  one  of  those  trans- 
parent globes,  and  I  look  down  and  see  his  body 
snared  in  the  antlers  of  coral,  stained  with  his 
blood?  Well,  he  came  up  all  right,  and  I  post- 
poned the  rest  of  my  emotion  for  a  later  experi- 
ence. 

Some  divers  remain  three  minutes  under  water, 
but  two  or  three  descents  are  as  many  as  they  can 
make  in  a  day.  The  ravages  of  such  a  life  are 
something  frightful. 

No  more  pearl-hunting  after  the  second  dive  that 
day  ;  nor  the  next,  because  we  went  out  into  the  air 
for  a  stroll  on  shore  to  gather  fruit  and  stretch  our 
legs.  There  was  a  high  wind  and  a  heavy  sea  that 
looked  threatening  enough,  and  we  were  glad  to 
return  after  an  hour's  tramp.  The  next  day  was 
darker,  and  the  next  after  that,  when  a  gale  came 
down  upon  us  that  seemed  likely  to  swamp  Motu 
Hilo.  A  swell  rolled  over  the  windward  reef  and 
made  our  quarters  in  the  grotto  by  no  means  safe  or 
agreeable.  It  was  advisable  for  us  to  think  of  em- 
barking upon  that  tempestuous  sea,  or  get  brained 
against  the  roof  of  our  retreat. 

Hua  Manu  looked  troubled,  and  my  heart  sank. 
I  wished  the  pearl  oysters  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea, 
the  Great  Western  back  at  Tahiti,  and  I  loafing 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     145 

under  the  green  groves  of  Papeete,  never  more  to 
be  deluded  abroad. 

I  observed  no  visible  changes  in  the  weather  after 
I  had  been  wishing  for  an  hour  and  a  half.  The 
swell  rather  increased  ;  our  frail  canoe  was  tossed 
from  side  to  side  in  imminent  danger  of  upsetting. 

Now  and  then  a  heavy  roller  entirely v  filled  the 
mouth  of  our  cavern,  quite  blinding  us  with  spray  ; 
having  spent  its  fury  it  subsided  with  a  concussion 
that  nearly  deafened  us,  and  dragged  us  with  fear- 
ful velocity  toward  the  narrow  mouth  of  the  cave, 
where  we  saved  ourselves  from  being  swept  into  the 
sea  by  grasping  the  roots  overhead  and  within 
reach. 

"  Could  I  swim  ?  "  asked  Hua  Manu.  Alas,  no  ! 
That  we  must  seek  new  shelter  at  any  risk  was  but 
too  evident.  "  Let  us  go  on  the  next  wave,"  said 
Hua,  as  he  seized  a  large  shell  and  began  clearing 
the  canoe  of  the  water  that  had  accumulated.  Then 
he  bound  his  long  hair  in  a  knot  to  keep  it  from  his 
eyes,  and  gave  me  some  hasty  directions  as  to  my 
deportment  in  the  emergency. 

The  great  wave  came.  We  were  again  momen- 
tarily corked  up  in  an  air-tight  compartment.  I 
wonder  the  roof  was  not  burst  open  with  the  intense 
pressure  that  nearly  forced  the  eyes  out  of  my  head 
and  made  me  faint  and  giddy.  Recovering  from 
the  shock,  with  a  cry  of  warning  from  Hua,  and  a 
prayer  scarcely  articulated,  we  shot  like  a  bomb  from 
a  mortar  into  the  very  teeth  of  a  frightful  gale. 

Nothing  more  was  said,  nothing  seen.  The  air 
10 


146  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

was  black  with  flying  spray,  the  roar  of  the  elements 
more  awful  than  anything  I  had  ever  heard  before. 
Sheets  of  water  swept  over  us  with  such  velocity 
that  they  hummed  like  circular  saws  in  motion. 

We  were  crouched  as  low  as  possible  in  the  canoe, 
yet  now  and  then  one  of  these,  the  very  blade  of  the 
wave,  struck  us  on  the  head  or  shoulders,  cutting 
us  like  knives.  I  could  scarcely  distinguish  Hua's 
outline,  the  spray  was  so  dense,  and  as  for  him, 
what  could  he  do  ?  Nothing,  indeed,  but  send  up  a 
sort  of  death-wail,  a  few  notes  of  which  tinkled  in 
my  ear  from  time  to  time,  assuring  me  how  utterly 
without  hope  we  were. 

One  of  those  big  rollers  must  have  lifted  us  clean 
over  the  reef,  for  we  crossed  it  and  were  blown  into 
the  open  sea,  where  the  canoe  spun  for  a  second  in 
the  trough  of  the  waves,  and  was  cut  into  slivers  by 
an  avalanche  of  water  that  carried  us  all  down  into 
the  depths. 

I  suppose  I  filled  at  once,  but  came  up  in  spite  of 
it  (almost  everyone  has  that  privilege),  when  I  was 
clutched  by  Hua  Manu  and  made  fast  to  his  utili- 
tarian back  hair.  I  had  the  usual  round  of  experi- 
ences allotted  to  all  half-drowned  people :  a  pano- 
ramic view  of  my  poor  life  crammed  with  sin  and 
sorrow  and  regret;  a  complete  biography  written 
and  read  through  inside  of  ten  seconds.  I  was  half 
strangled,  call  it  two-thirds,  for  that  comes  nearer 
the  truth ;  heard  the  water  singing  in  my  ears, 
which  was  not  sweeter  than  symphonies,  nor  beguil- 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN \THE  POMOTOUS     147 

ing,  nor  in  the  least  agreeable.  I  deny  it !  In  the 
face  of  every  corpse  that  ever  was  drowned  I  em- 
phatically deny  it ! 

Hua  had  nearly  stripped  me  with  one  or  two  tugs 
at  my  thin  clothing,  because  he  didn't  think  that 
worth  towing  off  to  some  other  island,  and  he  was 
willing  to  float  me  for  a  day  or  two,  and  run  the 
risk  of  saving  me. 

When  I  began  to  realize  anything,  I  congratulated 
myself  that  the  gale  was  over.  The  sky  was  clear, 
the  white  caps  scarce,  but  the  swell  still  sufficient  to 
make  me  dizzy  as  we  climbed  one  big,  green  hill, 
and  slid  off  the  top  of  it  into  a  deep  and  bubbling 
abyss. 

I  found  Hua  leisurely  feeling  his  way  through  the 
water,  perfectly  self-possessed  and  apparently  uncon- 
scious that  he  had  a  deck  passenger  nearly  as  big  as 
himself.  My  hands  were  twisted  into  his  hair  in 
such  a  way  that  I  could  rest  my  chin  upon  my  arms, 
and  thus  easily  keep  my  mouth  above  water  most  of 
the  time. 

My  emotions  were  peculiar.  I  wasn't  accustomed 
to  travelling  in  that  fashion.  I  knew  it  had  been 
done  before.  Even  there  I  thought  with  infinite 
satisfaction  of  the  Hawaiian  woman  who  swam  for 
forty  hours  in  such  a  sea,  with  an  aged  and  helpless 
husband  upon  her  back.  Beaching  land  at  last  she 
tenderly  drew  her  burden  to  shore  and  found  him — 
dead  !  The  fact  is  historical,  and  but  one  of  several 
equally  marvellous. 

We  floated  on  and  on,  cheering  each  other  hour 


148  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

after  hour  ;  the  wind  continuing,  the  sea  falling,  and 
anon  night  coming  like  an  ill  omen — night,  that 
buried  us  alive  in  darkness  and  despair. 

I  think  I  must  have  dozed,  or  fainted,  or  died  sev- 
eral times  during  the  night,  for  it  began  to  grow 
light  long  before  I  dared  to  look  for  it,  and  then 
came  sunrise — a  sort  of  intermittent  sunrise  that 
gilded  Hua's  shoulder  whenever  we  got  to  the  top  of 
a  high  wave,  and  went  out  again  as  soon  as  we 
settled  into  the  hollows. 

Hua  Manu's  eyes  were  much  better  than  mine  ; 
he  seemed  to  see  with  all  his  five  senses,  and  the  five 
told  him  that  there  was  land  not  far  off!  I  wouldn't 
believe  him  ;  I  think  I  was  excusable  for  questioning 
his  infallibility  then  and  there.  The  minute  he 
cried  out  "  Land  I  "  I  gave  up  and  went  to  sleep,  or 
to  death,  for  I  thought  he  was  daft,  and  it  was  a  dis- 
couraging business,  and  I  wished  I  could  die  for 
good.  Hua  Manu,  what  a  good  egg  you  were, 
though  it's  the  bad  that  usually  keep  atop  of  the 
water,  they  tell  me ! 

Hua  Manu  was  right.  He  walked  out  of  the  sea 
an  hour  later  and  stood  on  a  mound  of  coarse  sand 
in  the  middle  of  the  ocean,  with  my  miserable, 
water-logged  body  lying  in  a  heap  at  his  feet. 

The  place  was  as  smooth  and  shiny  and  desolate 
as  anybody's  bald  head.  That's  a  nice  spot  to  be 
merry  in,  isn't  it  ?  Yet  he  tried  to  make  me  open 
my  eyes  and  be  glad. 

He  said  he  knew  the  Great  Western  would  be  com- 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE   POMOTOUS     149 

ing  down  that  way  shortly  ;  she'd  pick  us  off  the 
shoal,  and  water  and  feed  us. 

Perhaps  she  might !  Meantime  we  hungered  and 
thirsted  as  many  a  poor  castaway  had  before  us. 
That  was  a  good  hour  for  Christian  fortitude  : 
beached  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean ;  shelterless 
under  a  sun  that  blistered  Hua's  tough  skin  ;  eyes 
blinded  with  the  glare  of  sun  and  sea  ;  the  sand 
glowing  like  brass  and  burning  into  flesh  already  ir- 
ritated with  salt  water  ;  a  tongue  of  leather  cleaving 
to  the  roof  of  the  mouth,  and  no  food  within  reach, 
nor  so  much  as  a  drop  of  fresh  water  for  Christ's  sake ! 

Down  went  my  face  into  the  burning  sand  that 
made  the  very  air  hop  above  it.  ...  Another 
night,  cool  and  grateful ;  a  bird  or  two  flapped 
wearily  overhead,  looking  like  spirits  in  the  moon- 
light. Hua  scanned  earnestly  our  narrow  horizon, 
noting  every  inflection  in  the  voices  of  the  wind  and 
waves — voices  audible  to  him,  but  worse  than  dumb 
to  me — mocking  monotones  reiterated  through  an 
agonizing  eternity. 

A  wise  monitor  was  Hua  Manu,  shaming  me  to  si- 
lence in  our  cursed  banishment.  Toward  the  morn- 
ing after  our  arrival  at  the  shoal,  an  owl  fluttered 
out  of  the  sky  and  fell  at  our  feet  quite  exhausted. 
It  might  have  been  blown  from  Motu  Hilo,  and 
seemed  ominous  of  something,  I  scarcely  knew  what. 
When  it  had  recovered  from  its  fatigue,  it  sat  re- 
garding us  curiously.  I  wanted  to  wring  its  short, 
thick  neck,  and  eat  it,  feathers  and  all.  Hua  ob- 
jected ;  there  was  a  superstition  that  gave  that 


I5O  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

bland  bird  its  life.  It  might  continue  to  ogle  us 
with  one  eye  as  long  as  it  liked.  How  the  lopsided 
thing  smirked !  how  that  stupid  owl-face,  like  a  ro- 
sette with  three  buttons  in  it,  haunted  me  !  It  was 
enough  to  craze  anyone  ;  and,  having  duly  cursed 
him  and  his  race,  I  went  stark  mad  and  hoped  I  was 
dying  forever.  .  .  . 

There  are  plenty  of  stars  in  this  narrative.  Stars, 
and  plenty  of  them,  cannot  account  for  the  oblivious 
intervals,  suspended  animation,  or  whatever  it  was, 
that  came  to  my  relief  from  time  to  time.  I  cannot 
account  for  them  myself.  Perhaps  Hua  Manu 
might ;  he  seemed  always  awake,  always  on  the 
lookout,  and  ever  so  patient  and  faithful.  A  dream 
came  to  me  after  that  owl  had  stared  me  into  stone 
— a  dream  of  an  island  in  a  sea  of  glass  ;  soft  ripples 
lapping  on  the  silver  shores  ;  sweet  airs  sighing  in 
a  starlit  grove  ;  someone  gathering  me  in  his  arms, 
hugging  me  close  with  infinite  tenderness  ;  I  was 
consumed  with  thirst,  speechless  with  hunger;  like 
an  infant  I  lay  in  the  embrace  of  my  deliverer,  who 
moistened  my  parched  lips  and  burning  throat  with 
delicious  and  copious  draughts.  It  was  an  elixir  of 
life  ;  I  drank  health  and  strength  in  every  drop  ; 
sweeter  than  mother's  milk  flowed  the  warm  tide 
unchecked,  till  I  was  satisfied  and  sank  into  a  deep 
and  dreamless  sleep.  .  .  . 

The  Great  Western  was  plunging  in  her  old  style, 
and  I  swashed  in  my  bunk  as  of  yore.  The  captain 
sat  by  me  with  a  bottle  in  his  hand  and  anxiety  in 
his  countenance. 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     \$\ 

"  Where  are  we  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Two  hours  out  from  Tahiti,  inward  bound." 

"  How  !  What !  When  !  "  etc.  ;  and  my  mind 
ran  up  and  down  the  record  of  the  last  fortnight, 
finding  many  blots  and  some  blanks. 

"  As  soon  as  I  got  into  my  right  mind  I  could 
hear  all  about  it ;  "  and  the  captain  shook  his  bottle, 
and  held  on  to  the  side  of  my  bunk  to  save  himself 
from  total  wreck  in  the  lee-corners  of  the  cabin. 

"Why,  wasn't  I  right-minded?  I  could  tell  a 
hawk  from  a  hernshaw  ;  and,  speaking  of  hawks, 
where  was  that  cursed  owl  ?  " 

The  captain  concluded  I  was  bettering,  and  put 
the  physic  into  the  locker,  so  as  to  give  his  whole 
attention  to  keeping  right  side  up.  Well,  this  is 
how  it  happened,  as  I  afterward  learned  :  The  Great 
Western  suffered  somewhat  from  the  gale  at  Motu 
Hilo,  though  she  was  comparatively  sheltered  in  that 
inner  sea.  Having  repaired,  and  given  me  up  as  a 
deserter,  she  sailed  for  Tahiti.  The  first  day  out, 
in  a  light  breeze,  they  all  saw  a  man  apparently 
wading  up  to  his  middle  in  the  sea.  The  fellow 
hailed  the  Great  Western,  but  as  she  could  hardly 
stand  up  against  the  rapid  current  in  so  light  a  wind, 
the  captain  let  her  drift  past  the  man  in  the  sea,  who 
suddenly  disappeared.  A  consultation  of  officers 
followed.  Evidently  someone  was  cast  away  and 
ought  to  be  looked  after;  resolved  to  beat  up  to 
the  rock,  big  turtle,  or  whatever  it  might  be  that 
kept  that  fellow  afloat,  provided  the  wind  freshened 
sufficiently ;  wind  immediately  freshened ;  Great 


152  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

Western  put  about  and  made  for  the  spot  where 
Hua  Manu  had  been  seen  hailing  the  schooner.  But 
when  that  schooner  passed  he  threw  himself  upon 
the  sand  beside  me  and  gave  up  hoping  at  last,  and 
was  seen  no  more. 

What  did  he  then  ?  I  must  have  asked  for  drink. 
He  gave  it  me  from  an  artery  in  his  wrist,  severed 
by  the  finest  teeth  you  ever  saw.  That's  what  saved 
me.  On  came  the  little  schooner,  beating  up  against 
the  wind  and  tide,  while  I  had  my  lips  sealed  to 
that  fountain  of  life. 

The  skipper  kept  banging  away  with  an  old 
blunderbuss  that  had  been  left  over  in  his  bargains 
with  the  savages,  and  one  of  these  explosions  caught 
the  ears  of  Hua.  He  tore  my  lips  from  his  wrist, 
staggered  to  his  feet,  and  found  help  close  at  hand. 
Too  late  they  gathered  us  up  out  of  the  deep  and 
strove  to  renew  our  strength.  They  transported  us 
to  the  little  cabin  of  the  schooner,  Hua  Manu,  my- 
self, and  that  mincing  owl,  and  swung  off  into  the 
old  course.  Probably  the  Great  Western  never  did 
better  sailing  since  she  came  from  the  stocks  than 
that  hour  or  two  of  beating  that  brought  her  up  to 
the  shoal.  She  seemed  to  be  emulating  it  in  the 
home  run,  for  we  went  bellowing  through  the  sea  in 
a  stiff  breeze  and  the  usual  flood  tide  on  deck. 

I  lived  to  tell  the  tale.  I  should  think  it  mighty 
mean  of  me  not  to  live  after  such  a  sacrifice.  Hua 
Manu  sank  rapidly.  I  must  have  nearly  drained  his 
veins,  but  I  don't  believe  he  regretted  it.  The  cap- 
tain said  when  he  was  dying,  his  faithful  eyes  were 


PEARL-HUNTING  IN  THE  POMOTOUS     153 

fixed  on  me.  Unconsciously  I  moved  a  little  ;  he 
smiled,  and  the  soul  went  out  of  him  in  that  smile, 
perfectly  satisfied.  At  that  moment  the  owl  fled 
from  the  cabin,  passed  through  the  hatchway,  and 
disappeared. 

Hua  Manu  lay  on  the  deck,  stretched  under  a  sail, 
while  I  heard  this.  I  wondered  if  a  whole  cargo 
of  pearls  could  make  me  indifferent  to  his  loss. 
I  wondered  if  there  were  many  truer  and  braver 
than  he  in  Christian  lands.  They  call  him  a  heathen. 
It  was  heathenish  to  offer  up  his  life  vicariously. 
He  might  have  taken  mine  so  easily,  and  perhaps 
have  breasted  the  waves  back  to  his  own  people,  and 
been  feted  and  sung  of  as  the  hero  he  truly  was. 

Well,  if  he  is  a  heathen,  out  of  my  heart  I  would 
make  a  parable,  its  rubric  bright  with  his  sacrificial 
blood,  its  theme  this  glowing  text :  "  Greater  love 
hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life 
for  a  friend." 


A  TROPICAL  SEQUENCE 


WE  were  at  "  high  tea/'  on  the  broad  veran- 
da, munching  thin,  crisp  slices  of  toast. 
Where  one  dines  at  2  P.M.,  tea  and  toast  naturally 
come  in  with  the  twilight — weak  tea  and  well- 
browned,  butterless  toast ;  likewise  that  surprising 
delicacy,  peculiar  to  the  tropics,  preserved  carrots, 
for  even  the  carrot  is  not  without  honor  when  it  is 
out  of  its  element. 

We  were  at  the  water's  edge  ;  the  ripples  warily 
climbed  the  coral  terrace  below  us  ;  the  sea  fell 
bravely  upon  the  reef  with  a  low  and  soothing 
moan  ;  a  passion-vine  that  half  veiled  the  tranquil 
marinorama  bathed  its  splendid  blossoms  in  the 
afterglow.  Thus  agreeably  environed,  I  supped 
with  my  old  friend  the  venerable  pastor  of  a  much- 
vaunted  mission  at  the  antipodes. 

He  was  rosy  with  the  passionless  flush  of  a  tem- 
perate second  youth  ;  his  thin  gray  locks  brushed 
briskly  upward  were  streaked  over  a  shining  pate. 
He  had  fervently  blessed  the  toast,  the  tea,  and  the 
preserved  carrots,  and  had  recommended  us  singly 
and  in  groups  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  All 
Merciful — by  us,  I  mean  the  withered  partner  of 


A    TROPICAL   SEQUENCE  155 

his  joys  and  sorrows,  the  three  daughters  in  starched 
gingham  gowns,  and  myself. 

How  restful  this  pastoral  life,  so  to  speak,  after 
the  tribulations  of  travel !  Now  we  could  talk  com- 
placently of  the  old  days  when  I  had  found  shelter 
under  that  hospitable  roof,  and  of  the  changes — how 
few  for  them,  how  many  for  me  ! — that  had  occurred 
since  my  former  visit ;  yet  our  table  talk  was  as  fru- 
gal as  the  repast,  for  we  were  never  quite  able  to 
get  rid  of  the  impression  that  gathering  about  the 
board  was  a  kind  of  solemnity,  and  to  be  observed 
as  such.  Hence  the  collision  of  cup  and  saucer 
seemed  irreverent ;  the  guilty  one  turned  with  a 
startled  look  ;  and  as  for  the  light  laughter  of  the 
natives  in  the  groves  of  the  village,  was  it  not 
worldly?  Could  I  not  see  with  half  an  eye  that 
eternal  vigilance  was  the  price  of  the  pastorate  ? 

The  white  waxen  bells  of  the  floribunda  swung  to 
and  fro,  pouring  their  deadly  odor  upon  the  air ; 
the  dusk  deepened  rapidly  ;  the  night  breeze  grew 
moist  and  cool.  After  an  embarrassing  silence  we 
gratefully  withdrew  to  the  sitting-room,  where  a 
tall  astral  lamp  with  a  depressed  globe  stood  in  soli- 
tary state  upon  the  centre-table,  and  the  four  bare 
walls  were  suffused  with  a  soft  glow-worm  light. 

We  conversed  shyly,  as  if  none  of  us  felt  quite  at 
home.  In  my  mind,  I  ran  about  in  search  of  a  topic 
to  touch  upon  and  fill  the  imminent  deadly  breach  ; 
I  looked  about  me,  trying  to  nurse  my  interest  in 
this  reserved  circle.  I  saw  that  in  years  change  had 
not  visited  it ;  nothing  was  added,  nothing  waa 


156  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

taken  away.  Yes,  Elizabeth  was  absent.  "  Where 
is  Elizabeth?"  I  asked,  trying  to  appear  uncon- 
cerned, for  I  had  liked  her. 

"Elizabeth  is  married,"  said  the  pastor's  wife, 
with  an  apologetic  inflection  as  if  it  were  an  un- 
maidenly  thing  for  the  girl  to  follow  the  example  of 
her  foster-mother. 

It  seemed  to  me  wise  to  leave  Elizabeth  to  her 
fate,  especially  as  at  that  moment  the  youngest  of 
the  slim  daughters  of  the  house  rose,  at  a  signal 
from  the  pastor,  and  brought  from  a  side  table 
several  copies  of  the  New  Testament,  in  large  type, 
bound  in  sheep — one  for  each  of  us. 

We  drew  near  the  lofty  lamp,  six  of  us,  in  a 
solemn  circle.  The  books  were  opened  at  a  mark  ; 
my  place  was  found  for  me  by  the  eldest  daugh- 
ter. The  pastor  read  a  verse  in  a  full  round  voice  ; 
the  wife  followed  in  her  piping  treble ;  then  the 
daughters  three  took  up  the  strain.  With  some  em- 
barrassment, I  read  in  turn  ;  my  finger  had  been 
sealed  to  my  allotted  lines  from  the  moment  the 
reading  began  and  I  saw  which  way  the  tide  set. 
I  was  careful  not  to  repeat  the  error  which  distin- 
guished me  on  my  former  visit  :  on  that  occasion 
we  were  reading  a  psalm,  and  I  cried  Selah !  when 
it  came  my  turn.  I  was  innocent,  I  was  ignorant, 
but  I  was  not  conscious  of  the  fact  until  I  saw  that 
silence,  a  brief  silence,  followed  each  unutterable 
Selah  during  the  rest  of  that  memorable  evening. 

Having  finished  our  devotions,  we  sat  in  spas- 
modic converse.  Sometimes,  in  the  intervals,  there 


A   TROPICAL  SEQUENCE  157 

was  the  refreshing  frou-frou  of  starched  gingham  ; 
sometimes  a  large  moth,  with  brilliant  ruby  eyes 
and  blood-spots  on  its  wings,  dashed  through  the 
open  window,  became  delirious  at  the  white  sheen 
of  the  astral  globe,  darted  in  and  out  in  a  fine  frenzy, 
and  then  soared  to  the  ceiling  and  fluttered  noisily  ; 
all  through  that  solemn  evening  did  the  mosquito 
wind  his  horn. 

By  9  P.M.  I  was  lighted  to  my  room,  a  large  apart- 
ment opening  on  the  lawn.  It  was  quite  as  I  had 
known  it  of  yore :  the  huge  four-posted  bed  with 
profuse  folds  of  netting,  the  broad  toilet-stand,  the 
cumbersome  bureau  ;  a  few  books  of  a  serious  char- 
acter lay  on  the  table. 

Presently  I  heard  the  gentle  people  ascend  to  the 
chambers  above  without  fastening  a  door  or  win- 
dow ;  it  reminded  me  that  I  was  once  again  in  a 
semi- civilized  community,  where  bolts  and  bars  are 
unknown. 

In  a  few  moments  all  was  silent.  I  threw  open 
the  door  upon  the  lawn  ;  a  soft  air  stirred  among 
the  towering  trees ;  the  young  moon  was  not  yet 
set.  The  beauty  of  the  night  distracted  me  ;  I  was 
unable  to  sleep.  Slipping  on  my  dressing-gown,  I 
repaired  to  the  veranda  over  the  sea,  and  lighted  a 
cigarette. 

So  Elizabeth  was  married  !  How  often  we  had 
sat  as  I  was  sitting,  and  looked  off  upon  the  sea. 
The  reef  sang  to  my  ears  as  of  old,  pluming  itself 
with  spray  that  looked  like  diamond  dust  in  the 
moonlight ;  the  oppressive  perfume  of  the  flori- 


SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

bunda  freighted  the  soft,  cool  air  ;  the  moon  sank 
behind  the  sharp,  black  rim  of  the  horizon  :  the  fire- 
flies slid  to  and  fro  among  the  shadows,  like  tiny 
shooting  stars  ;  "  Hokoolele,"  the  natives  call  them 
— shooting  stars  !  And  that  reminded  me,  Hokoolele" 
was  the  star  of  her  tribe.  When  but  a  child  her 
precocity  awakened  the  sympathy  of  the  pastor's 
household ;  she  was  grafted  upon  the  family  tree ; 
reared  as  a  daughter  among  the  daughters  of  the 
house  ;  clothed,  fed,  bred  like  them.  While  she 
was  still  too  young  to  realize  the  loss,  her  parents 
died.  Then  she  was  kept  aloof  from  her  own  peo- 
ple, and  weaned  from  all  their  ways.  When  I  saw 
her,  at  fifteen,  she  was  a  woman,  and  not  all  the 
ginghams  of  Connecticut  could  spoil  her  sensu- 
ous beauty.  Soft-eyed,  low- voiced,  supple,  graceful, 
this  Hokoolele,  who  doffed  her  name  when  she  be- 
came a  Christian  and  was  christened  Elizabeth — 
this  wondrous  girl  in  gingham,  with  her  demure 
ways,  her  prim  speeches,  her  obtrusive  code  of 
morals — was  an  enigma  that  had  charmed  and  puz- 
zled me.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  she  should  have 
been  the  first  flower  plucked  from  that  garden  of 
girls? 

My  last  cigarette  was  cold  in  my  fingers ;  I  was  a 
little  chilled,  for  at  midnight  the  air  blew  fresh  from 
the  hills.  So  Elizabeth  was  married  1 

I  stole  back  to  my  room  and  put  out  the  candle, 
which  was  still  burning. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath.  How  the  spirit  of 
the  Lord's  day  broods  over  the  regenerated  tribes  of 


A   TROPICAL  SEQUENCE  1 59 

the  Antipodes !  The  solemnity  of  our  matutinal 
meal  was  undisturbed  save  by  the  subdued  murmur 
of  the  sea.  In  the  door-yard  the  domestic  fowls 
stretched  lazily,  as  is  their  custom  of  a  Sunday  ;  oc- 
casionally some  hen,  filled  with  wisdom  and  experi- 
ence, broke  the  monotony  with  the  sharp  staccato  of 
her  recitative.  The  villagers  spoke  in  hushed  voices 
as  they  passed  the  house,  walking  with  that  undulat- 
ing motion  which  seems  to  quicken  the  air,  and 
sweeten  it  with  the  fragrance  of  their  inevitable 
floral  accompaniment. 

Family  prayers  were  more  impressive  than  com- 
mon, as  befitted  the  day  ;  and  we  were  clothed  in 
white  raiment  when  we  marched  in  grave  and  digni- 
fied procession  down  the  long  walk  to  the  front  gate, 
and  thence  by  the  road  around  the  corner  to  the 
square  white  meeting-house  ;  this  we  invariably  did, 
instead  of  stepping  quietly  through  the  side  gate,  a 
short  cut,  and  allowable  on  a  week  day  when  there 
was  no  service. 

We  filled  the  pastoral  pew,  facing  the  aisles,  and 
watched  the  natives  as  they  quietly  glided  in.  They 
were  resplendent  after  their  kind,  in  purple  and  fine 
linen.  Those  who  had  shoes  for  the  most  part 
bore  them  in  their  hands  as  far  as  the  threshold, 
where  they  were  put  on  with  some  effort ;  but  they 
were  put  off  again  almost  as  soon  as  the  worshippers 
were  seated.  They  imagine  a  vain  thing  who  think 
that  the  dispensable  shoe  is  a  luxury. 

Through  all  of  that  long,  long  sermon  the  hornets 
buzzed  in  and  out  of  the  window  ;  sometimes  a  fitful 


l6o  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

gust  from  the  sea  fluttered  the  broad  leaves  in  the 
banana  hedge,  and  the  breeze  in  the  dense  branches 
of  the  trees  without  was  as  the  sound  of  a  sudden 
shower. 

In  the  high,  old-fashioned  choir-loft  the  natives 
sang  lustily  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  wheezing 
melodeon.  How  I  missed  the  voice  of  Elizabeth, 
that  superb  contralto  voice  which  used  to  lead  the 
dusky  choristers.  Perhaps  she  was  even  then  pip- 
ing like  the  nightingales  that  thrill  the  bowers  in  the 
villas  of  Frascati. 

I  grew  restless  in  the  heat  of  the  afternoon  ;  I  be- 
gan to  think  that  the  parsonage  without  Elizabeth 
was  a  bore.  There  were  old  haunts  to  be  revisited 
about  the  island,  and  new  spots  to  be  discovered.  I 
would  fly  into  the  wilderness,  and  set  up  my  taber- 
ernacle  in  the  mountain  solitudes,  where  I  could  at 
least  escape  the  frequent  reminders  that  depreciated 
the  frank  hospitality  of  the  pastor  and  his  house. 

It  is  no  very  difficult  task  to  prepare  for  a  tramp 
in  the  tropics ;  your  food  falls  like  manna  from  the 
boughs  above  you  ;  your  drink  flows  at  your  feet ; 
you  have  at  your  command  a  veritable  bed  of  roses  ; 
and  as  for  shelter,  it  is  an  impertinence  to  dream  of 
such  a  thing. 

Plan  I  had  none  ;  a  bee  or  a  bird  was  pilot 
enough  for  me. 

There  was  a  formal  adieu  at  the  hospitable  gate — 
a  ponderous  and  patriarchal  farewell.  There  was  a 
hope  expressed  that  we  might  be  reunited,  if  not  in 
the  serene  but  suffocating  atmosphere  of  the  mis- 


A    TROPICAL  SEQUENCE  l6l 

sion  house,  then  in  that  brighter  world  whose  mys- 
terious geography  seemed  as  plain  as  day  to  the  old 
pastor. 

I  passed  out  of  the  village  saluted  by  the  popu- 
lace ;  all  extremes  meet  at  the  antipodes.  Why 
should  they  not  ?  I  saluted  them  again,  as  cordially 
as  if  I  had  been  able  to  distinguish  one  from  an- 
other, and  strode  onward  down  the  wide,  white  road 
that  girdles  the  island  close  upon  the  sea. 

My  heart  grew  light  in  my  bosom.  I  sang  a  song 
of  liberty,  albeit  I  am  no  singer,  and  am  never  asked 
to  sing  ;  but  somehow  I  bubbled  over,  and  made 
the  woods  ring  with  thanksgiving  and  praise.  I  was 
passing  southward  toward  Point  Venus,  on  the  Ta- 
hitian  shore.  On  my  right  the  clouds  were  pierced 
by  the  sharp  needles  of  Fatahua.  I  had  heard  of  the 
picturesque  retreat  of  the  warriors  who,  years  ago, 
nested  like  young  eagles  among  those  mighty  peaks, 
held  the  vultures  of  France  at  bay ;  why  not  spy  out 
this  wild  haunt?  At  the  very  thought  my  fancy 
turned  lightly  from  romance  to  historical  research. 

With  the  single  exception  of  the  tamarind-tree 
planted  by  Captain  Cook  at  Point  Venus,  there  is 
nothing  in  that  part  of  the  world  of  more  interest  to 
the  antiquarian  than  Fatahua.  It  is  a  toy  fort  hid- 
den away  up  in  the  mountains,  by  a  stream  that 
makes  a  clear  leap  of  a  thousand  feet  from  under 
the  shadow  of  cloud-crowned  cliffs,  and  feeds  a 
slender  river  that  winds  through  dust  and  heat  down 
a  fine  valley  to  the  sea. 

When  Pomare,  the  queen,  was  a  power,  instead  of 
ii 


l62  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

a  puppet,  this  eyrie  might  have  been  an  altar  to 
some  deity ;  then  came  the  French  siege,  and  the 
dismayed  natives  fled  from  the  shore  to  the  moun- 
tains. Once  within  the  battlements  of  Fatahua, 
they  could  defy  the  elements  ;  and  they  did,  re- 
joicing like  the  immortals.  Close  at  hand  grew 
fruits  in  inexhaustible  profusion ;  the  wood  was 
filled  with  game  ;  a  stream  flowed  within  their  gates  ; 
and  there  was  shade  and  sunshine  without  limit  in 
that  little  world  above  the  clouds. 

The  one  possible  hope  for  the  French  in  the 
siege  of  Tahiti  was  to  gain  by  strategy  that  fort  of 
Fatahua ;  with  the  enemy  in  the  heart  of  this 
stronghold  the  submission  of  the  Tahitians  would 
naturally  follow.  Two  natives,  treacherous  dogs 
from  a  neighboring  island,  were  bribed  ;  and  at 
night,  by  sinuous  paths,  ascending  the  mountain  on 
the  unpeopled  slope  of  it,  the  French  infantry  was 
led  to  a  cliff  commanding  the  little  fort.  At  day- 
break, while  the  young  eagles  were  pluming  their 
wings,  a  volley  of  hot  shot  was  poured  into  their 
nest,  and  it  was  speedly  deserted. 

There  is  a  blow  which  paralyzes  the  heart,  and 
they  received  it  theo.  The  ill-fated  Tahitians  came 
down  to  the  sea  again,  and  cast  their  nets  as  of 
yore,  but  they  have  never  regained  their  pride  or 
power,  and  never  will. 

I  resolved  to  take  Fatahua  alone  and  single- 
handed  ;  this  seemed  to  me  a  dramatic  justice.  I 
laid  in  rations  for  a  twelve-hour  siege,  footed  it 
along  a  road  that  threads  Fatahua  valley,  passed  a 


A    TROPICAL   SEQUENCE  163 

sugar-mill  loading  the  air  with  saccharine  steams, 
crossed  acres  of  thriving  cane,  fought  shy  of  some 
native  huts  scattered  among  the  bread-fruit  trees, 
and  was  always  within  sound  of  the  little  river  that 
dashed  onward  to  the  sea  in  the  jolliest  mood  im- 
aginable. 

Having  wedged  myself  in  among  the  hills  that  are 
locked  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  I  began  ascend- 
ing ;  and  so  continued  until  I  came  to  a  point  where 
three  streams,  beside  each  of  which  was  a  path,  chat- 
tered forth  from  the  dense  guava  jungle  and  ran  to- 
gether— as  if  they  were  in  a  hurry  to  keep  an  ap- 
pointment at  this  very  spot. 

I  paused,  perplexed.  A  wandering  native  took 
me  upon  his  shoulders  and  kindly  bore  me  across  the 
second  of  the  three  streams,  and  I  resumed  my 
stealthy  march. 

The  middle  stream  and  the  middle  path,  begin- 
ning at  the  big  pandanas,  is  the  only  key  to  Fata- 
hua.  It  was  a  long  pull,  and  a  weary  one  ;  the  na- 
tive had  disappeared,  and  with  him  the  last  hope  of 
human  aid.  Again  my  trail  led  me  knee-deep  into 
the  riotous  torrent ;  with  shoes  and  stockings  in 
hand,  I  forded  it,  only  to  find  that  it  was  next  to 
impossible  to  replace  them,  for  they  were  moist  al- 
ready. My  kingdom  for  a  shoehorn  ! 

It  is  but  two  miles  to  the  fort  from  the  outer 
edge  of  the  jungle — two  almost  perpendicular  and 
rather  spongy  miles  ;  a  combination  of  green  shad- 
ows and  gushing  springs  with  an  opaque  back- 
ground of  guava  growth. 


1 64  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

At  last  I  climbed  into  the  open,  and  paused  upon 
the  edge  of  a  frightful  chasm;  on  the  opposite 
brink,  sixty  yards  away,  the  little  fort  hung  like  a 
swallow's  nest  under  the  eaves  of  the  cliff.  The 
gate  had  fallen  from  its  hinges,  and  lay  rotting  in 
the  moss  ;  the  parapets  were  masked  with  vines ; 
the  bastion  was  a  bed  of  roses  ;  the  mango  and  the 
wild  lime  marked  the  ruin  of  turret  and  tower ;  the 
green  banners  of  the  plantain  crackled  in  the  gale  ; 
and  the  sentinel  lizards,  watchful  at  their  posts,  sur- 
rendered and  slipped  out  of  view  at  the  approach  of 
the  invader.  Without  bloodshed  the  fort  was  mine ! 

Leaning  from  the  dismantled  ramparts,  I  heard 
the  hiss  of  the  water  as  it  plunged  into  the  dark- 
some pool  a  thousand  feet  below  ;  I  saw  the  birds' 
backs  as  they  sped  through  space  ;  I  dropped  a 
great  golden  lime  into  the  pit,  and  saw  it  go  out 
in  the  profound  shadow,  like  a  globe  of  fire. 

What  a  sanctuary  for  a  recluse  !  Why  not  roll  a 
stone  against  the  narrow  threshold,  and  forswear  the 
world  ? 

The  deserted  magazine,  overrun  with  roses,  was 
shelter  enough  from  the  brief  showers  that  fall  al- 
most hourly  through  the  night  and  day,  and  even 
from  the  gales  that  sometimes  visit  that  island  of 
tranquil  delights. 

Meat  and  drink  were  there,  and  music  and  sleep. 
What  rapture  to  be  voluntarily  cast  forth  and  for- 
gotten of  men  !  A  place  wherein  to  nurse  one's 
fancies,  and  to  brood  on  the  great  work  one  is  al- 
ways going  to  do,  but  never  does. 


A    TROPICAL  SEQUENCE  1 65 

While  I  mused  thus  the  heavens  darkened  ;  down 
came  the  javelins  of  the  rain  in  a  sharp  and  sudden 
shower.  I  ignominiously  retreated  to  the  magazine, 
and  threw  myself  upon  a  mat  left  by  some  earlier  her- 
mit. It  was  dark  and  chilly  within  that  windowless 
habitation ;  there  was  a  suggestion  of  mildew  and  of 
unmistakable  discomfort,  despite  the  picturesque 
element  which  ever  predominates  in  the  tropics. 

On  second  thought,  did  I  care  to  end  my  days  in 
Fatahua  ?  Suddenly  the  doorway  was  darkened  by 
a  stalwart  brave,  whose  noiseless  step  had  given  no 
warning  of  his  approach. 

On  his  shoulder  he  balanced  a  bamboo  laden 
with  clusters  of  feii,  the  wild  plantain,  that  grows 
abundantly  on  the  heights,  and  which,  when  cooked, 
is  the  delight  of  the  Tahitian  palate. 

He  paused  at  the  threshold  until  his  friendly 
greeting  had  been  returned  ;  then  he  entered  with 
some  diffidence,  deposited  his  fruits  in  a  corner, 
squatted  upon  the  mat  near  me,  and  breathed  aud- 
ibly, for  his  burden  was  heavy,  and  the  trail  no 
primrose  path.  Except  for  the  pareu  that  girded 
his  loins,  my  visitor  was  quite  naked. 

Long  we  gazed  at  each  other  with  an  earnest, 
honest  gaze  that  ended  in  a  smile  of  recognition  ; 
we  had  never  met  before,  but  the  uncivilized  and 
the  overcivilized  are  brothers.  He  placed  his  hand 
on  my  shoulder  and  stroked  me  fondly.  From 
the  back  of  his  ear  he  drew  his  tobacco  pouch,  and 
rolled  a  cigarette,  of  which  we  took  alternate  puffs 
in  token  of  perpetual  peace. 


1 66  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

Presently  he  made  a  fruit  offering,  guavas,  man- 
goes, limes  ;  then  a  drink  offering,  water  in  a  cup 
formed  of  a  folded  leaf  ;  and  then — we  had  been 
silent  until  now — he  said,  in  hesitating  English  with 
a  childish  accent,  "I  know  you  ;  you  like  me  ;  you 
come  my  house." 

I  nodded  assent.  The  savage  shouldered  his  bur- 
den, and  stepped  lightly  down  the  trail,  turning  now 
and  again  to  give  me  a  look  or  a  word  of  encourage- 
ment ;  at  every  stream  he  put  down  his  load  and 
bore  me  dry-shod  to  the  other  shore ;  when  it 
showered,  as  it  did  now  at  intervals,  we  halted  under 
some  broad-leaved  tree.  Once  we  sat  in  the  moss 
and  renewed  our  vow  in  tobacco  ;  and  thus  tran- 
quilly we  came  at  last  to  a  log  smouldering  by  a 
stream,  and  our  tramp  was  ended. 

It  was  a  large  log,  partially  decayed  ;  it  had  been 
fired  long  before,  and  was  slowly  and  imperceptibly 
burning,  like  a  gigantic  piece  of  punk.  At  meal 
time  it  could  be  blown  into  a  flame ;  a  few  dry  twiga 
and  leaves  heaped  against  it  served  to  warm  the 
frugal  meal.  This  is  the  national  Tahitian  hearth — 
a  cloud  by  day,  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night  ;  it  puts  the 
blue  spurt  of  the  lucifer  match  to  the  blush  ;  show- 
ers cannot  quench  it ;  the  gale  gives  it  new  life ;  it 
was  the  one  luxury  in  the  household  of  my  host. 

I  was  attracted  by  a  rude  shelter  close  at  hand, 
and  went  thither  to  inspect  it.  Imagine  a  screen  of 
leaves,  about  six  feet  wide  and  eight  feet  high,  slant- 
ing against  the  trade-wind  and  supported  by  a 
couple  of  unbarked  saplings ;  the  gale  rushed  over 


A    TROPICAL   SEQUENCE  167 

it,  the  rain  slid  down  it.  The  sides  and  front  were 
as  open  as  the  day.  Three  logs  hedged  in  a  bed  of 
fine  grass  mats,  which,  like  a  carpet,  filled  the  space 
from  the  low  eaves  in  the  moss,  to  the  sapling 
supports  in  front ;  plump  clean  pillows  were  stowed 
in  corners  ;  an  uncovered  calabash  contained  articles 
of  feminine  apparel ;  a  silver  thimble  and  a  bit  of 
unfinished  embroidery  with  a  needle  thrust  through 
it  lay  on  the  mat ;  a  hand-mirror  was  lodged  among 
the  beams  of  the  roof.  Evidently  the  bower  was 
not  un visited  of  women.  From  the  peak  of  the 
roof  hung  a  cluster  of  ripe  bananas ;  I  filled  my 
hands  with  them  and  returned  to  the  blazing  log. 

For  the  most  part  my  companion  and  I  communed 
in  silence.  You  may  sit  for  hours  by  a  savage  with- 
out uttering  a  syllable,  yet  he  will  turn  to  you  at  in- 
tervals with  an  intelligent  glance  and  an  appreciative 
smile,  as  if  he  were  comprehending  everything  you 
left  unsaid. 

While  we  were  thus  growing  in  grace  we  were 
startled  by  a  sharp  cry.  In  a  moment  we  discovered 
the  cause  of  the  alarm  ;  a  goat,  standing  on  its  hind 
legs,  with  one  hoof  placed  daintily  against  the  sup- 
port of  the  bower  was  playing  havoc  with  the  ba- 
nanas. 

With  the  cry  a  woman  sprang  from  the  thicket,  a 
babe  at  her  breast,  and  seizing  the  destroyer  by  the 
horns  she  lustily  dragged  him  away.  For  a  few 
moments  there  was  a  struggle,  while  the  child 
screamed  with  fright,  but  with  the  aid  of  my  com- 
rade the  beast  was  beaten  into  the  bush,  and  the 


1 68  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

woman,  breathless  from  exertion  and  laughter,  re- 
turned to  the  bower,  where  she  nestled  her  babe  in 
her  arms. 

I  was  presented  in  an  ingenuous  fashion,  and  seat- 
ing myself  on  the  threshold  with  unfeigned  interest 
I  regarded  the  hostess.  She  was  scantily  clad  ;  her 
single  garment,  sleeveless,  and  with  the  fastening 
over  the  bosom  broken  in  the  struggle,  slipped  from 
her  well-turned  shoulder ;  her  rich  locks  fallen  from 
the  comb  partially  veiled  her.  Her  beauty  was 
heightened  by  her  confusion,  and  she  hastily  sought 
to  swathe  the  naked  babe  in  the  folds  of  her  robe. 

To  my  surprise  she  addressed  me  in  English,  ad- 
mirable English,  which  flowed  from  her  lips  as  freely 
as  if  it  were  her  native  tongue.  This  was  her  hus- 
band, she  said,  and  this  her  home.  There  was 
something  in  her  voice  that  startled  me  ;  it  seemed 
the  echo  of  a  forgotten  song. 

The  babe  was  laid  to  sleep  upon  a  pillow ;  the 
mother  busied  herself  with  cookery ;  the  father 
meanwhile  looking  on  idly. 

We  grew  communicative ;  dinner  al  fresco  is  ever 
a  jovial  meal — fish  from  the  sea,  feii  from  the  moun- 
tain, bread-fruit,  oranges,  bananas  from  the  wild 
plantations  of  the  valley.  We  broke  the  bread  of 
ease,  and  solaced  ourselves  with  such  trivial  scraps  of 
gossip  as  were  flung  about  the  island  from  lip  to  lip. 

The  woman's  conversational  abilities  astounded 
me ;  while  the  man  sat  in  statuesque  indifference, 
she  spoke  of  nature  and  her  life  in  nature  with  un- 
affected enthusiasm.  As  we  grew  more  familiar  I 


A    TROPICAL  SEQUENCE  169 

ventured  to  intrude  upon  her  confidence,  and  not 
without  startling  results. 

This  was  Hokoolele ;  this  was  the  Elizabeth 
whom  I  had  known  some  years  before,  when  she 
was  in  gingham  and  abeyance  at  the  mission  house. 
She  had  not  recognized  me,  but  this  was  scarcely 
surprising  ;  I  was  fagged  out ;  I  had  achieved  a 
beard ;  I  was  weatherworn,  and  by  no  means  so 
mirthful  as  when  she  knew  me  in  my  adolescence. 
Moreover,  at  the  pastor's  house,  almost  the  only 
guest  house  in  the  village,  she  saw  many  strangers, 
and  was  probably  interested  in  very  few  of  them  ; 
but  finding  that  we  were  indeed  old  friends,  she 
told  me  her  story,  which  ran  something  like  this : 

Her  fate,  the  bronzed  fellow  who  piloted  me  to 
her  fireside,  first  saw  her  at  the  church,  whither  he 
had  wandered  out  of  idle  curiosity,  for  he  was  not 
of  the  elect.  The  love  of  a  savage  is  instantaneous 
and  overwhelming.  He  loved  ;  he  watched  her  afar 
off  for  a  little  time,  fearful  of  stepping  into  the 
charmed  circle  that  surrounded  her.  Their  eyes 
had  met  ;  what  the  lip  dares  not  utter  in  secret  the 
eyes  publish  to  the  world.  He  piped  to  her  in  the 
twilight.  He  wooed  her  with  both  flute  and  harp 
— a  bamboo  nose-flute  and  a  harp  strung  with  horse- 
hair :  it  is  possible  with  this  harp  to  say  even  unut- 
terable things. 

Night  after  night  the  bronzed  one  came  out  of 
his  lair  in  the  hills,  and  woke  his  lady  from  her 
Christian  slumbers  to  listen  to  the  loves  of  her  race. 

He  pictured  the  life  she  had  been  so  early  weaned 


170  SOUTH- SEA  IDYLS 

from  ;  the  divine  passion  inflamed  him  ;  in  his  heart 
he  caressed  her.  His  beseeching  songs  grew  more 
fervent,  until  they  rose  into  threnes  and  lamenta- 
tions, and  then  she  yielded  ;  but  flute  and  harp  were 
not  resigned  until  they  had  sounded  the  last  strain 
of  the  epithalamium. 

The  pastor  wedded  them,  because  he  saw  that 
this  marriage  was  the  lesser  of  the  two  evils  that 
threatened  Elizabeth. 

At  long  intervals  she  revisited  her  early  home,  but 
she  seemed  to  have  let  fall  from  her,  like  a  mantle, 
all  the  influence  of  domestic  Puritan  life.  She  was 
no  longer  Elizabeth,  but  Hokoolele",  the  shooting  star. 

"  And  you  prefer  this  life,"  I  asked,  "  to  any  other?" 

"  Infinitely,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  of  earnest  con- 
Yiction. 

A  little  way  down  the  stream  stood  a  thatched 
hut ;  thither  I  was  conducted  by  the  husband  of 
Elizabeth,  and  for  his  sake  and  hers  was  most  cor- 
dially welcomed  by  the  master  and  his  household. 

The  bronzed  one  bade  me  farewell,  and  vanished 
into  the  night ;  I  was  to  resume  my  pilgrimage  to 
nowhere  in  particular  on  the  morning  following. 

I  had  left  Elizabeth  standing  in  the  firelight,  bare- 
headed, bare-footed,  bare-armed,  and  with  a  bare 
shift  to  cover  her,  as  gentle  a  savage  as  ever  drew 
breath  or  blood  ;  but  I  wondered  if  her  wakeful 
eyes  ever  turned  again  to  the  luxury  of  shelter  and 
plenty,  and  if  the  shadow  of  repentance  never  once 
plunged  its  airy  dagger  to  her  heart,  and  made  hor- 
rible the  long  watches  of  the  night. 


A  CANOE-CRUISE  IN  THE  CORAL 
SEA 


IF  you  can  buy  a  canoe  for  two  calico  shirts,  what 
will  your  annual  expenses  in  Tahiti  amount  to  ? 
This  was  a  mental  problem  I  concluded  to  solve, 
and,  having  invested  my  two  shirts,  I  began  the  so- 
lution in  this  wise  :  My  slender  little  treasure  lay 
with  half  its  length  on  shore,  and  being  quite  big 
enough  for  two,  I  looked  about  me,  seeking  some- 
one to  sit  in  the  bows,  for  company  and  ballast. 

Up  and  down  the  shady  beach  of  Papeete  I  wan- 
dered, with  this  advertisement  written  all  over  my 
anxious  face  : 

"WANTED— A  crew  about  ten  years  of  age ;  of 
a  mild  disposition,  and  with  no  special  fondness  for 
human  flesh  ;  not  particular  as  to  sex.  Apply  im- 
mediately, at  the  new  canoe,  under  the  breadfruit- 
tree,  Papeete,  South  Pacific." 

Some  young  things  were  pitching  French  coppers 
so  earnestly  they  didn't  read  my  face  ;  some  were 
not  seafaring  at  that  moment ;  while  most  of  them 
evidently  ate  more  than  was  good  for  them,  which 
might  result  disastrously  in  a  canoe-cruise,  and  I 
get  my  heart  against  them.  The  afternoon  was 


1/2  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

waning,  and  my  ill-luck  seemed  to  urge  upon  me  the 
necessity  of  my  constituting  a  temporary  press-gang 
for  the  kidnapping  of  the  required  article. 

"  Who  is  anxious  to  go  to  sea  with  me  ? "  I 
bawled,  returning  through  the  crowds  of  young 
gamblers,  all  intently  disinterested  in  everything 
but  "pitch  and  toss."  Not  far  away  a  group  of 
wandering  minstrels — such  as  make  musical  the 
shores  of  Tahiti— sat  in  the  middle  of  the  street, 
chanting.  One  youth  played  with  considerable  skill 
upon  a  joint  of  bamboo,  of  the  flute  species,  but 
breathed  into  from  the  nostrils,  instead  of  from  the 
lips.  Three  or  four  minor  notes  were  piped  at  uncer- 
tain intervals,  in  an  impromptu  variation  upon  the 
air  of  the  singers.  Drawing  near,  the  music  was 
suspended,  and  I  proposed  shipping  one  of  the  me- 
lodious vagabonds ;  whereupon  the  entire  chorus  ex- 
pressed a  willingness  to  accompany  me,  in  any  ca- 
pacity whatever,  remarking,  at  the  same  time,  that 
"  they  were  a  body  bound,  so  to  speak,  by  chords  of 
harmony,  and  any  proposal  to  disband  them  would 
by  it  be  regarded  as  highly  absurd."  Then  I  led 
the  solemn  procession  of  volunteers  to  my  canoe, 
and  we  regarded  it  in  silence  ;  it  was  something 
larger  than  a  pea-pod,  to  be  sure,  but  about  the 
shape  of  one.  After  a  moment  of  deliberation,  dur- 
ing which  a  great  throng  of  curious  spectators  had 
assembled,  the  orchestra  declared  itself  in  readiness 
to  ship  before  the  paddle  for  the  trifling  consider- 
ation of  $17.  I  knew  the  vague  notion  that  money 
is  money,  call  it  dollar  or  dime,  generally  enter- 


A    CANOE-CRUISE  Itf  THE   CORAL  SEA      173 

tained  by  the  innocent  children  of  Nature  ;  and  daz- 
zling the  unaccustomed  eyes  of  the  flutist  with  a  new 
two-franc  piece  he  immediately  embarked.  The  be- 
reaved singers  sat  on  the  shore  and  lifted  up  their 
voices  in  resounding  discord,  as  the  canoe  slid  off 
into  the  still  waters,  and  my  crew  with  commend- 
able fortitude,  laid  down  the  nose-flute,  took  up  the 
paddle,  and  we  began  our  canoe-cruise. 

The  frail  thing  glided  over  the  waves  as  though 
invisible  currents  were  sweeping  her  into  the  here- 
after ;  the  shore  seemed  to  recede,  drawing  the  low, 
thatched  houses  into  deeper  shadow  ;  other  canoes 
skimmed  over  the  sea,  like  great  water-bugs,  while 
the  sun  set  beyond  the  sharp  outlines  of  beautiful 
Morea,  glorifying  it  and  us. 

There  was  a  small  islet  not  far  away — an  islet  as 
fair  and  fragrant  as  a  bouquet — looking,  just  then, 
like  a  mote  in  a  sheet  of  flame.  Thither  I  directed 
the  reformed  flutist,  and  then  let  myself  relapse 
into  the  all-embracing  quietness  that  succeeds  nearly 
every  vexation  that  flesh  is  heir  to. 

There  was  something  soothing  in  the  nature  of 
my  crew.  He  sat  with  his  back  to  me — a  brown 
back,  that  glistened  in  the  sun,  and  arched  itself, 
from  time  to  time,  cat-like,  as  though  it  was  very 
good  to  be  brown  and  bare  and  shiny.  From  the 
waist  to  the  feet  fell  the  resplendent  folds  of  a 
pareu,  worn  by  all  Tahitians,  of  every  possible  age 
and  sex,  and  consisting,  in  this  case,  of  a  thin  breadth 
of  cloth,  stamped  with  a  deep  blue  firmament,  in 
which  supernaturally  yellow  suns  were  perpetually 


174  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

setting  in  several  spots.  A  round  head  topped  his 
chubby  shoulders,  and  was  shaven  from  the  neck  to 
the  crown,  with  a  matted  forelock  of  the  blackness 
of  darkness  falling  to  the  eyes  and  keeping  the  sun 
out  of  them.  One  ear  was  enlivened  with  a  crescent 
of  beaten  gold,  which  decoration,  having  been  won 
at  "  pitch  and  toss,"  will  probably  never  again,  in  the 
course  of  human  events,  meet  with  its  proper  mate. 
On  the  whole  he  looked  just  a  little  bit  like  a  fan- 
tail  pigeon  with  his  wings  plucked. 

At  this  point  my  crew  suddenly  rose  in  the  bows 
of  the  canoe,  making  several  outlandish  flourishes 
with  his  broad  paddle.  I  was  about  to  demand  the 
occasion  of  his  sudden  insanity,  when  we  began  to 
grate  over  some  crumbling  substance  that  materially 
impeded  our  progress  and  suggested  all  sorts  of 
disagreeable  sensations — such  as  knife-grinding  in 
the  next  yard,  or  saw-filing  round  the  corner.  It 
was  as  though  we  were  careering  madly  over  a  mul- 
titude of  fine-tooth  combs.  With  that  caution  which 
is  inseparable  from  canoe  cruising  in  every  part  of 
the  known  world,  I  leaned  over  the  side  of  my  per- 
sonal property  and  penetrated  the  bewildering  depths 
of  the  coral  sea. 

Were  we,  I  asked  myself,  suspended  about  two 
feet  above  a  garden  of  variegated  cauliflowers  ?  Or 
were  the  elements  wafting  us  over  a  minute  winter- 
forest,  whose  fragile  boughs  were  loaded  with  pris- 
matic crystals? 

The  scene  was  constantly  changing:  now  it 
«eeined  a  disordered  bed  of  roses — pink,  and  white, 


A    CANOE-CRUISE  IN  THE   CORAL  SEA      1/5 

and  orange  ;  presently  we  weie  floating  in  the  air, 
looking  down  upon  a  thousand -domed  mosque,  pale 
in  the  glamour  of  the  Oriental  moon ;  and  then  a 
wilderness  of  bowers  presented  itself — bowers  whose 
fixed  leaves  still  seemed  to  quiver  in  the  slight  ripple 
of  the  sea — blossoming  for  a  moment  in  showers  of 
buds,  purple,  and  green,  and  gold,  but  fading  al- 
most as  soon  as  born.  I  could  scarcely  believe  my 
eyes,  when  these  tiny,  though  marvellously  brilliant, 
fish  shot  suddenly  out  from  some  lace-like  structure, 
each  having  the  lurid  and  flame-like  beauty  of  sul- 
phurous fire,  and  all  turning  instantly,  in  sudden  con- 
sternation at  finding  us  so  near,  and  secreting  them- 
selves in  the  coral  pavilion  that  amply  sheltered 
them.  Among  the  delicate  anatomy  of  these  frozen 
ferns  our  light  canoe  was  crashing  on  its  way.  I 
saw  the  fragile  structures  overwhelmed  with  a  single 
blow  from  the  young  savage,  who  stood  erect,  pro- 
pelling us  onward  arnid  the  general  ruins.  With  my 
thumb  and  finger  I  annihilated  the  laborious  monu- 
ments of  centuries,  and  saw  havoc  and  desolation 
in  our  wake. 

There,  in  one  of  God's  reef- walled  and  cliff-shel- 
tered aquaria,  we  drifted,  while  the  sky  and  sea  were 
glowing  with  the  final,  triumphant  gush  of  sunset 
radiance.  Fefe  at  last  broke  the  silence,  with  an 
interrogation:  "Well,  how  you  feel?"  "Fefe,"  I 
replied,  "I  feel  as  though  I  were  some  good  and 
faithful  bee,  sinking  into  a  sphere  of  amber,  for  a 
sleep  of  a  thousand  years."  Fefe  gave  a  deep-mouthed 
and  expressive  grunt,  as  he  laid  his  brown  profile 


1 ;<5  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

against  the  sunset  sky,  thereby  displaying  his  soli- 
tary ear-ring  to  the  best  advantage,  and  with  evident 
personal  satisfaction.  "  And  how  do  you  feel,  Fefe  ?  " 
I  asked.  He  was  mum  for  a  moment ;  arched  his 
back  like  any  wholesome  animal  when  the  sun  has 
struck  clean  through  it ;  ejaculated  an  ejaculation 
with  his  tongue  and  teeth  that  cannot  possibly  be 
spelled  in  English,  and  thereupon  his  nostril  quiv- 
ered spasmodically,  and  was  only  comforted  by  the 
immediate  application  of  his  nose-flute,  through 
which  dulcet  organ  he  confessed  his  deep  and  other- 
wise unutterable  joy.  I  blessed  him  for  it,  though 
there  were  but  three  notes,  all  told,  and  those  minors 
and  a  trifle  flat. 

Fefe's  impassioned  soul  having  subsided,  we  both 
looked  over  to  beautiful  Morea,  nine  miles  away. 
How  her  peaks  shone  like  steel,  and  her  valleys 
looked  full  of  sleep !  while  here  and  there  one  gold- 
en ray  lingered  for  a  moment  to  put  the  final  touch 
to  a  fruit  it  was  ripening  or  a  flower  it  was  painting 
— for  they  each  have  their  perfect  work  allotted  to 
them,  and  they  leave  it  not  half  completed. 

It  was  just  the  hour  that  harmonizes  everything 
in  nature,  and  when  there  is  no  possible  discord  in 
all  the  universe.  The  fishes  were  baptizing  them- 
selves by  immersion  in  space,  and  kept  leaping  into 
the  air,  like  momentary  inches  of  chain-lightning. 
Our  islet  swam  before  us,  spiritualized — suspended, 
as  it  were,  above  the  sea — ready  at  any  moment  to 
fade  away.  The  waves  had  ceased  beating  upon  the 
reef  ;  the  clear,  low  notes  of  a  bell  vibrating  from 


A    CAtfOE-CRUISE  Iff  THE   CORAL  SEA 

the  shore  called  us  to  prayer.  Fefe  knew  it,  and 
was  ready — so  was  I ;  and  with  bare  heads  and  souls 
utterly  at  peace  we  gave  our  hearts  to  God — for  the 
time  being ! 

Then  came  the  hum  of  voices  and  the  rustle  of 
renewed  life.  On  we  pressed  toward  our  islet,  un- 
der the  increasing  shadows  of  the  dusk.  A  sloping 
beach  received  us  ;  the  young  cocoa-palms  embraced 
one  another  with  fringed  branches.  Through  green 
and  endless  corridors  we  saw  the  broad  disk  of  the 
full  moon  hanging  above  the  hill. 

Fefe  at  once  chose  a  palm,  and  having  ascended 
to  its  summit  cast  down  its  fruit.  Descending,  he 
planted  a  stake  in  the  earth,  and  striking  a  nut 
against  its  sharpened  top  soon  laid  open  the  fibrous 
husk,  with  which  a  fire  was  kindled. 

Taking  two  peeled  nuts  in  his  hands,  he  struck 
one  against  the  other  and  laid  open  the  skull  of  it 
— a  clear  sort  of  scalping  that  aroused  me  to  en- 
thusiasm. There  is  one  end  of  a  cocoanut's  skull 
as  delicate  as  a  baby's,  and  a  well  directed  tap  does 
the  business ;  possibly  the  same  result  would  follow 
with  those  of  infants  of  the  right  age — twins,  for 
instance.  Fefe  agrees  with  me  in  this  theory,  now 
first  given  to  the  public. 

Then  followed  much  talk,  on  many  topics,  over 
our  tropical  supper — said  supper  consisting  of  sea- 
weed salad,  patent  self-stuffing  banana-sausages,  and 
cocoanut  hash.  We  argued  somewhat,  also,  but  in 
South  Pacific  fashion — which  would  surely  spoil,  if 
imported  ;  I  only  remember,  and  will  record,  that 

12 


178  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

Fefe  regarded  the  nose-flute  as  a  triumph  of  art,  and 
considered  himself  no  novice  in  musical  science,  as 
applicable  to  nose-flutes  in  a  land  where  there  is 
scarcely  a  nose  without  its  particular  flute,  and 
many  a  flute  is  silent  forever,  because  its  special 
nose  is  laid  among  the  dust. 

Having  eaten,  I  proposed  sleeping  on  the  spot, 
and  continuing  the  cruise  at  dawn.  "  Why  should 
we  return  to  the  world  and  its  cares,  when  the  sea 
invites  us  to  its  isles  ?  Nature  will  feed  us.  In  that 
blessed  land  clothing  has  not  yet  been  discovered. 
Let  us  away ! "  I  cried.  At  this  juncture  voices 
came  over  the  sea  to  us — voices  chanting  like  sirens 
upon  the  shore.  Instinctively  Fefe's  nose-flute  re- 
sumed its  tremolo,  and  I  knew  the  day  was  lost. 
"  Come  ! "  said  the  little  rascal,  as  though  he  were 
captain  and  I  the  crew,  and  he  dragged  me  toward 
the  skiff.  With  terrific  emphasis,  I  commanded  him 
to  desist.  "  Don't  imagine,"  I  said,  "  that  this  is  a 
modern  Bounty,  and  that  it  is  your  duty  to  rise  up 
in  mutiny  for  the  sake  of  dramatic  justice.  Nature 
never  repeats  herself,  therefore  come  back  to 
camp ! " 

But  he  wouldn't  come.  I  knew  I  should  lose  my 
canoe  unless  I  followed,  or  should  have  to  paddle 
back  alone — no  easy  task  for  one  unaccustomed  to 
it.  So  I  moodily  embarked  with  him  ;  and  having 
pushed  off  into  deep  water,  he  sounded  a  note  of 
triumph  that  was  greeted  with  shouts  on  shore,  and 
I  felt  that  my  fate  was  sealed. 

It  had  been  my  life-dream  to  bid  adieu  to  the 


A    CANOE-CRUISE  IN  THE   CORAL   SEA 

human  family,  with  one  or  two  exceptions ;  to  sever 
every  tie  that  bound  me  to  anything  under  the  sun  ; 
to  live  close  to  Nature,  trusting  her,  and  getting 
trusted  by  her. 

I  explained  all  this  to  the  young  "  Kanack,"  who 
was  in  a  complete  state  of  insurrection,  but  failed  to 
subdue  him.  Overhead  the  air  was  flooded  with 
hazy  moonlight ;  the  sea  looked  like  one  immeasura- 
ble drop  of  quicksilver,  and  upon  the  summit  of  this 
luminous  sphere  our  shallop  was  mysteriously 
poised.  A  faint  wind  was  breathing  over  the  ocean  ; 
Fefe  erected  his  paddle  in  the  bows,  placed  against 
it  a  broad  mat  that  constituted  part  of  my  outfit  for 
that  new  life  of  which  I  was  defrauded,  and  on  we 
sped  like  a  belated  sea-bird  seeking  its  mossy 
nest. 

Beneath  us  slept  the  infinite  creations  of  another 
world,  gleaming  from  the  dark  bosom  of  the  sea 
with  an  unearthly  pallor,  and  seeming  to  reveal 
something  of  the  forbidden  mysteries  that  lie  be- 
yond the  grave.  "La  Petite  Pologne,"  whispered 
Fefe,  as  he  arched  his  back  for  the  last  time,  and 
stepped  on  shore  at  the  foot  of  this  singular  rendez- 
vous— a  narrow  lane  threading  the  groves  of  Pa- 
peete, bordered  by  wine-shops,  bakeries,  and  a  con- 
vent wall,  lit  at  night  by  smoky  lanterns  hanging 
motionless  in  the  dead  air  of  the  town,  and  thronged 
from  7  P.M.  till  10  P.M.  by  people  from  all  quarters 
of  the  globe. 

Fefe  having  resumed  his  profession  as  soon  as  his 
bare  foot  was  on  his  native  heath  again,  the  min- 


180  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

strels  moved  in  a  hollow  square  through  the  centre 
of  La  Petite  Pologne.  They  were  rendering  some 
Tahitian  madrigal — a  three-part  song,  the  solo,  or 
first  part,  of  which  being  got  safely  through  with — 
a  single  stanza — it  was  repeated  as  a  duo,  and  so 
re-repeated  through  simple  addition  with  a  gradu- 
ally-increasing chorus  ;  the  nose-flute  meantime 
getting  delirious,  and  sounding  its  finale  in  an 
ecstasy  prolonged  to  the  point  of  strangulation, 
when  the  whole  unceremoniously  terminated,  and 
everybody  took  a  rest  and  a  fresh  start.  During 
these  performances,  the  audience  was  dense  and 
demonstrative.  Fefe  was  in  his  element,  sitting 
with  his  best  side  to  the  public,  and  flaunting  his 
ear-ring  mightily.  A  dance  followed :  a  dance 
always  follows  in  that  land  of  light  hearts,  and  as 
one  after  another  was  ushered  into  the  arena  and 
gave  his  or  her  body  to  the  interpretation  of  such 
songs  as  would  startle  Christian  ears — albeit  there 
be  some  Christian  hearts  less  tender,  and  Christian 
lips  less  true — to  my  surprise,  Fefe  abandoned  his 
piping  and  danced  before  me,  and  then  came  a  flash 
of  intuition — rather  late,  it  is  true,  but  still  useful 
as  an  explanatory  supplement  to  my  previous  vexa- 
tions. "Fefe  !  "  I  gasped  (Fefe  is  the  Tahitian  for 
Elephantiasis),  and  my  Fefe  raised  his  or  her  skirts, 
and  danced  with  a  shocking  leg.  I  really  can't  tell 
you  what  Fefe  was.  You  never  can  tell  by  the 
name.  He  might  have  been  a  boy,  or  she  might 
have  been  a  girl,  all  the  time.  I  don't  know  that  it 
makes  any  particular  difference  to  me  what  it  was, 


A    CANOE-CRUISE  IN  THE   CORAL  SEA      l8l 

but  I  cannot  encourage  elephantiasis  in  anything, 
and  therefore  I  concluded  my  naval  engagement 
with  Fefe,  and  solemnly  walked  toward  my  chamber, 
scarcely  a  block  off.  The  music  followed  me  to  my 
door  with  a  song  of  some  kind  or  other,  but  the 
real  nature  of  which  I  was  too  sensitive  definitely  to 
ascertain. 

Gazelle-eyed  damsels,  with  star-flowers  dangling 
from  their  ears,  obstructed  the  way.  The  gendarmes 
regarded  me  with  an  eye  single  to  France  and 
French  principles.  Mariners  arrayed  in  the  blue  of 
their  own  sea  and  the  white  of  their  own  breakers 
bore  down  upon  us  with  more  than  belonged  to 
them.  Men  of  all  colors  went  to  and  fro,  like  mad 
creatures ;  women  followed ;  children  careered 
hither  and  thither.  Wild  shouts  rent  the  air ;  there 
was  an  intoxicating  element  that  enveloped  all 
things.  The  street  was  by  no  means  straight, 
though  it  could  scarcely  have  been  narrower ;  the 
waves  staggered  up  the  beach,  and  reeled  back 
again  ;  the  moon  leered  at  us,  looking  blear-eyed  as 
she  leaned  against  a  cloud ;  and  half-nude  bodies 
lay  here  and  there  in  dark  corners,  steeped  to  the 
toes  in  rum.  Out  of  this  human  maelstrom,  whose, 
fatal  tide  was  beginning  to  sweep  me  on  with  it,  I 
made  a  plunge  for  my  door-knob  and  caught  it. 
Twenty  besetting  sins  sought  to  follow  me,  covered 
with  wreaths  and  fragrant  with  sandal- wood  oil; 
twenty  besetting  sins  rather  pleasant  to  have  around 
one,  because  by  no  means  as  disagreeable  as  they 
should  be.  Fefe  was  there  also,  and  I  turned  to 


1 82  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

address  him  a  parting  word — a  word  calculated  to 
do  its  work  in  a  soil  particularly  mellow. 

"  Fefe,"  I  said,  "  how  can  I  help  regarding  it  as  a 
dispensation  of  Providence  that  your  one  leg  is  con- 
siderably bigger  than  your  other  ?  How  can  I  ex- 
pect you,  with  your  assorted  legs,  to  walk  in  that 
straight  and  narrow  way  wherein  I  have  frequently 
found  it  inconvenient  to  walk  myself,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  symmetry  of  my  own  extremities?  There- 
fore, adieu,  child  of  the  South,  with  your  one  ear- 
ring and  your  piano-forte  leg  ;  adieu — forever." 

With  that  I  closed  my  door  upon  the  scene,  and 
strove  to  bury  myself  in  oblivion  behind  the  white 
window-shade.  In  vain :  the  shadow  with  the  mus- 
tache and  goatee  still  pursued  the  shadow  with  the 
flowing  locks  that  fled  too  slowly.  Voices  faint 
though  audible  indulged  in  allusions  more  or  less 
profane,  and  with  a  success  which  would  be  consid- 
ered highly  improper  in  any  latitude. 

Thus  sinking  into  an  unquiet  sleep,  with  a  dream 
of  canoe-cruising  in  a  coral  sea,  whose  pellucid  waves 
sang  sadly  upon  the  remote  shores  of  an  ideal  sphere, 
across  the  window  loomed  the  gigantic  shadow  of 
some  brown  beauty,  whose  vast  proportions  sug- 
gested nothing  more  lovely  than  a  new  Sphinx,  with 
a  cabbage  in  either  ear. 


UNDER  A  GRASS   ROOF 

A  LEAF  TORN  AT  RANDOM  FROM  A  TROPICAL 
NOTE-BOOK. 

AT  Kahakuloa,  under  a  terrific  hill  and  close 
upon  a  frothing  tongue  of  the  sea,  I  draw 
rein.  The  act  is  simply  a  formality  of  mine  ;  prob- 
ably the  animal  would  have  paused  here  of  his  own 
free  will,  for  he  has  been  rehearsing  his  stops  a 
whole  hour  back,  during  which  time  he  limped 
somewhat  and  reaped  determinedly  the  few  tufts  of 
dry  grass  that  Nature  had  provided  him  by  the  trail- 
side.  The  clouds  are  falling ;  the  cliffs  are  festooned 
with  damp  gauze  ;  the  air  is  moist  and  cool ;  a  grass 
hut  of  uncommon  purity  stands  invitingly  by.  A 
moon-faced  youth,  whose  spotless  garments  appealed 
to  me  as  he  overtook  our  caravan  a  mile  back,  says, 
"  Will  you  eat  and  sleep  ?  "  I  am  but  human,  and  a 
hungry  and  sleepy  human,  at  that  ;  so  I  tip  off  from 
my  mule's  back  with  gratitude  and  alacrity.  In  a 
moment  the  fine  linen  of  mine  host  is  hung  upon  its 
peg,  and  a  good  study  of  the  Nude  returns  to  me 
for  further  orders.  I  am  literally  famishing,  and  the 
mule  is  already  up  to  his  ears  in  water-cress ;  but 
then  I  have  ridden  and  he  has  carried  me.  How 
just,  O  Mother  Nature,  are  thy  judgments ! 


1 84  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

With  the  superb  poses  of  a  trained  athlete,  the 
Nude  swings  a  fowl  by  the  neck,  and  shortly  it  is 
plucked  and  potted  together  with  certain  vegetables 
of  the  proper  affinities.  Then  he  swathes  a  fish  in 
succulent  leaves,  and  buries  it  in  hot  ashes ;  and  then 
he  smokes  his  peace-pipe.  Pipe  no  sooner  lighted 
than  mouths  mysteriously  gather  :  five,  ten,  a  dozen 
of  them  magically  assemble  at  the  smell  of  smoke 
and  take  their  turn  at  the  curled  shell,  with  a  hollow 
stalk  for  a  mouth-piece.  Dinner  at  last.  O  fish, 
fruit,  and  fowl  on  a  mat  on  a  floor  in  a  grass  hut  at 
evening !  How  excellent  are  these — amen  !  Night 
— supper  over — someone  twanging  upon  a  stringed 
instrument  of  rude  native  origin.  Gossip  lags — 
darkness  and  silence  and  a  cigarette.  The  Nude 
rises  haughtily  and  lights  a  lamp  that  looks  very  like 
a  diminutive  coffe-pot  with  a  great  flame  in  the  nose 
of  it.  He  hangs  it  against  a  beam  already  blackened 
with  smoke  to  the  peak  of  the  roof.  Again  the 
peace-pipe  sweeps  the  home-circle,  and  is  passed 
out  to  the  mouths  of  the  neighborhood. 

Guests  drop  down  upon  us  and  fill  the  one  aper- 
ture of  the  hut  with  rows  of  curious,  welcoming 
faces  ;  assorted  dogs  press  through  the  door  in  turn, 
receive  a  slap  from  each  member  of  the  family,  and 
retreat  with  invisible  tails  ;  sudden  impulses  set  all 
tongues  wagging  in  unison ;  impulses,  equally  sud- 
den and  unaccountable,  enjoin  protracted  intervals 
of  silence.  The  sea  breathes  heavily  ;  there  is  a 
noise  of  rain-drops  sliding  down  the  thatch.  Guests 
disperse  with  a  kind  "  aloha"  We  are  alone  with  the 


UNDER  A    GRASS  ROOF  1 8$ 

night.  The  spirit  of  repose  descends  upon  us  ;  one 
by  one  the  dusky  members  of  mine  host's  household 
roll  themselves  into  mummies  and  lie  in  a  solemn 
row  along  the  side  of  the  room,  sleeping.  I,  also, 
will  sleep.  A  great  bark-cloth  (kapa),  that  rattles  as 
though  it  had  received  seven  starchings,  is  all  mine 
for  covering — a  royal  kapa  this,  of  exceeding  stiff- 
ness. I  lie  with  my  eyes  to  the  roof,  and  count  the 
beams  that  look  like  an  arbor.  What  is  it,  as  large 
as  my  thumb,  cased  in  brown  armor  ?  A  roach  ! — 
a  melancholy  procession  of  roaches  passing  from  one 
side  of  the  hut,  over  the  roof,  with  their  backs  down- 
ward, and  descending  on  the  other  side  by  the 
beams — a  hundred  of  them,  perhaps,  or  a  thousand  : 
the  cry  is,  "  Still  they  come ! "  There  is  a  noise  of 
tiny  feet  upon  the  roof,  and  it  isn't  rain  ;  there  is 
a  sound  as  of  falling  objects  that  escape  before  I 
can  catch  them.  My  hand  rests  upon  t.  cool,  moist 
creature  that  writhes  under  it — an  animated  spinal 
column  with  four  legs  at  one  end  of  it.  Away,  thou 
slimy  newt !  Something  runs  over  the  matting, 
making  a  still,  small  clatter  as  it  goes — something 
looking  like  a  toy  train  of  dirt-cars.  Ha  !  the  ven- 
omous and  wily  centipede  !  Put  out  the  coffee-pot, 
for  these  sights  are  horrible  ! 

Now  I  will  sleep  with  my  face  under  the  kapa — 
silence,  serene  silence,  and  darkness  profound  ;  the 
sea  beating  in  agony  at  the  foot  of  the  big  hill — a 
time  for  lofty  and  sublime  reverie.  More  rain  out- 
side the  hut ;  gusts  of  wind,  wailing  as  they  rush 
past  us.  Thanks  for  this  shelter.  My  pillow  satu- 


1 86  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

rated  with  cocoanut-oil — ah,  what  savage  dreams 
may  have  disturbed  these  sleepers !  No  matter. 
Will  get  a  wink  of  sleep  before  daybreak.  Sleep,  at 
last — how  refreshing  art  thou  ! 

Hello !  the  coffee-pot  in  a  blaze  again  ;  the  Nude 
smoking  his  peace-pipe  ;  children  eating  and  mak- 
ing merry.  Daybreak  ?  No  ;  midnight,  perchance 
— darkness  without,  darkness  once  more  (by  re- 
quest) within.  "  Come  again,  bright  dream."  Hor- 
ror !  the  house  shaken  as  by  an  earthquake — gnash- 
ing of  teeth  distinctly  audible  ;  the  mule  undoubted- 
ly eating  up  the  side  of  the  grass  hut !  Anon,  quiet 
restored.  A  suggestion  of  moonlight  through  the 
open  door ;  the  twanging  of  the  stringed  affair :  a 
responsive  twang  in  the  distance.  Someone  steals 
cautiously  forth  into  the  starlight.  All  is  not  well 
in  Kahakuloa.  Rain  over ;  mule  vegetating  else- 
where ;  roaches  subdued  ;  sea  comparatively  quiet. 
Welcome,  kind  Nature's  sweet  restorer !  .  .  . 
Humming  of  voices  ;  rolling  of  dogs  about  the 
house  ;  ditto  of  children,  ditto  ;  broad  daylight,  and 
breakfast  waiting.  Mule  saddled,  and,  with  a 
mouthful  of  roses,  looking  fresh  and  happy.  Mule- 
boy  eager  for  the  fray.  Time  up.  Adieu,  adieu — 
O  beautiful  Kahakuloa  !  I  must  away. 

Above  the  terrible  hill  hang  clouds  and  shadows ; 
fringes  of  rain  obscure  the  trail  as  it  climbs  persist- 
ently to  heaven  ;  but  up  that  trail,  into  and  through 
those  clouds  and  shadows,  I  pursue  my  solitary  pil- 
grimage. 


MY  SOUTH-SEA  SHOW 


HIGH  in  her  lady's  chamber  sat  Gail,  looking 
with  calm  eyes  through  the  budding  maples 
across  the  hills  of  spring.  Her  letter  was  but  half 
finished,  and  the  village  post  was  even  then  ready ; 
so  she  woke  out  of  her  reverie,  and  ended  the  writ- 
ing as  follows  : 

"  SPRING, . 

"I  know  not  where  you  may  be  at  this  moment— living 
with  what  South-Sea  Island  god,  drinking  the  milk  of  cocoa- 
nut,  and  eating  bread-fruit — but  wherever  you  are,  forget 
not  your  promise  to  come  home  again,  bringing  your  sheaves 
with  you." 

Anon  she  sealed  it  and  mailed  it,  and  it  was  hur- 
ried away,  over  land  and  sea,  till,  after  many  days, 
it  found  me  drinking  my  cocoa-milk  and  refreshing 
myself  with  bread-fruits. 

Anon  I  replied  to  her,  not  on  the  green  enamel  of 
a  broad  leaf,  with  a  thorn  stylet,  but  upon  the  blank 
margins  of  Gail's  letter,  with  my  last  half  inch  of 
pencil.  I  said  to  her : 

"  SUMMER,  — — -. 

11  By  and  by  I  will  come  to  you,  when  the  evenings  are 
very  long,  and  the  valley  is  still.  I  will  cross  the  lawn  in 
silence,  and  stand  knocking  at  the  south  entry.  Deborah 
will  open  the  door  to  me  with  fear  and  trembling,  for  I  shall 
be  sunburnt  and  brawny,  with  a  baby  cannibal  under  each 
arm.  Then  at  a  word  a  tattooed  youngster  shall  reach  her  a 
Tahitian  pearl,  and  I  will  cry,  4  Give  it  to  Mistress  Gail ; r 
whereat  Deborah  will  willingly  withdraw,  leaving  me  mo- 


1 88  SOUTH-SEA    IDYLS 

tionless  in  the  dead  leaves  by  the  south  entry.  Yon  will  take 
the  token,  dear  Gail,  and  know  it  as  the  symbol  of  my  return. 
You  will  come  and  greet  us,  and  lead  us  to  the  best  chamber, 
and  we  will  feast  with  you  as  long  as  you  like — I  and  my 
cannibals." 

I  was  never  quite  sure  of  what  Gail  said  to  my 
letter,  but  I  knew  her  for  a  true  soul ;  so  I  gathered 
my  cannibals  under  my  metaphorical  wings,  and 
journeyed  unto  the  village,  and  came  into  it  at  sun- 
set, while  it  was  autumn.  We  passed  over  the  lawn 
in  silence,  and  stood  knocking  at  the  south  entry,  in 
real  earnest.  Deborah  came  at  last,  and  the  little 
striped  fellow  bore  aloft  his  pearl  of  Tahitian  beauty, 
while  I  gave  my  message,  and  Deborah  was  terrified 
and  thought  she  was  dreaming.  But  she  took  the 
pearl  and  went,  and  we  stood  in  the  keen  air  of 
autumn,  and  my  South  Sea  babies  were  very  cold 
and  moaned  pitifully  under  my  arms,  and  the  little 
pearl-bearer  shivered  in  all  his  stripes,  and  capered 
in  the  dead  leaves  like  an  imp  of  darkness. 

Then  Gail  came  to  us  and  let  us  in,  and  we 
camped  by  the  great  fire  in  the  sitting-room,  whither 
Deborah  brought  bowls  of  new  milk  for  the  little 
ones,  and  was  wonderfully  amazed  at  their  quaint- 
ness  and  beauty,  but  quite  failed  to  affiliate  with  my 
striped  pearl-bearer. 

So  I  said,  "Sit  you  down,  Deborah,  and  hear 
the  true  story  of  my  Zebra."  Gail  had  already  capt- 
ured the  bronze  babies,  and  was  helping  them  with 
their  bowls  of  milk  as  they  nestled  at  her  feet,  and  I 
took  my  striped  beauty  between  my  knees  and 
stroked  his  soft  wool,  and  told  how  he  saved  me 


MY  SOUTH- SEA    SHOW  189 

from  a  watery  death,  and  again  from  the  fiery  stake, 
and  was  doubly  dear  to  me  forevermore  : 

"  We  were  at  the  island  of  Pottobokee,  getting 
water  and  fruit ;  had  stacked  the  last  sack  of  man- 
goes and  limes  in  the  boat,  and  were  off  for  the 
ship,  glad  to  escape  with  our  scalps,  when  a  wave 
took  us  amidships  on  the  reef,  and  we  swamped  in 
the  dreadful  spume.  Some  were  drowned ;  some 
clung  to  the  boat,  though  it  was  stove  badly,  while 
relief  came  from  the  vessel  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  the  fragments  were  gathered  out  of  the  waves 
and  taken  aboard. 

"  They  thought  themselves  lucky  to  escape  with 
the  remnants,  for  they  knew  the  natives  for  canni- 
bals, and  the  shore  was  black  and  noisy  within  ten 
minutes  after  the  accident.  It  looked  stormy  in 
that  neighborhood,  hence  the  caution  and  haste  of 
the  relief-crew,  who  left  me  for  drowned,  I  suppose, 
as  they  never  came  after  me,  but  spread  everything, 
and  went  out  of  sight  before  dark  that  evening. 

"I  was  no  swimmer  at  all,  but  I  kicked  well,  and 
was  about  diving  the  fatal  dive — last  of  three  warn- 
ings that  seem  providentially  allotted  the  luckless 
soul  in  its  extremity ;  I  was  just  upon  the  third 
sinking,  when  a  tough  little  arm  gripped  me  under 
the  breast,  and  I  hung  over  it  limp  and  senseless, 
knowing  nothing  further  of  my  deliverance,  until  I 
found  myself  a  captive  in  Kabala-kum — a  heathenish 
sort  of  paradise,  a  little  way  back  from  the  sea-coast. 

"  The  natives  had  given  up  all  hope  of  feasting 
upon  me,  for  there  wasn't  a  respectable  steak  in  my 


SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

whole  carcass,  nor  was  my  appetite  promising  ;  so 
they  resolved  to  make  a  bonfire  of  me,  to  get  me  out 
of  the  way.  But  that  tough  little  arm  that  saved  me 
from  an  early  grave  in  the  water  was  husband  to  a 
tough  little  heart,  that  resolved  I  shouldn't  be  burnt. 
I  was  his  private  and  personal  property ;  he  had 
fished  me  out  of  the  sea ;  he  would  cook  me  in  his 
own  style  when  he  got  ready,  and  no  one  else  was  to 
have  a  word  in  the  matter. 

"  There  he  showed  his  royal  blood,  Deborah,  for 
he  was  the  King's  son  :  this  marvellous  tattooing 
proclaims  his  rank.  Only  the  noble  and  brave  are 
permitted  to  brand  these  rainbows  into  their  brown 
skins. 

"I  was  almost  frightened  when  I  first  returned  to 
consciousness,  and  saw  this  little  fellow  pawing  me 
in  his  tender  and  affectionate  way.  He  was  lithe  as 
a  panther,  and  striped  all  over  with  brilliant  and 
changeless  stripes ;  so  I  called  him  my  boy  Zebra, 
and  I  suppose  he  called  me  his  white  mouse,  or 
something  of  that  sort. 

"  Well,  he  saved  me  at  all  events  ;  and  having 
heard  something  of  you  and  Gail  from  me,  he  wanted 
to  see  you  very  much,  and  we  made  our  escape  to- 
gether, though  he  had  to  sacrifice  all  his  bone- 
jewelry,  and  lots  of  skulls  and  scalps :  and  here  he 
is,  and  you  must  like  him,  Deborah,  because  he  is  a 
little  heathen,  and  doesn't  go  to  Sabbath  school,  as  a 
general  thing,  and  worships  idols  very  badly." 

Deborah  did  me  the  compliment  to  absorb  a  tear 
in  the  broad  hem  of  her  apron,  at  the  conclusion  of 


MY  SOUTH-SEA   SHOW  IQI 

my  episode,  whereat  my  beautiful  Zebra  regarded 
her  in  utter  amazement,  then  turned  his  queer  face 
— ringed,  streaked,  and  striped — up  to  mine,  and 
laughed  his  barbaric  laugh.  He  was  wonderful  to 
see,  with  his  breast  like  a  pigeon  ;  his  round,  supple, 
almost  voluptuous  limbs,  peculiar  to  his  amphibious 
tribe  ;  his  head  crowned  with  a  turban  of  thick 
wool,  so  fine  and  flossy,  it  looked  as  though  it  had 
been  carded  :  it  stood  two  inches  deep  at  a  tangent 
from  his  oval  pate. 

From  his  woolly  crown  to  the  soles  of  his  feet,  my 
Zebra  was  frescoed  in  the  most  brilliant  and  artistic 
fashion.  Every  color  under  the  sun  seemed  pricked 
into  his  skin  (there  he  discounted  the  zebras,  who 
are  limited  in  their  combinations  of  light  and 
shade ) ;  this,  together  with  the  multiplicity  of  fig- 
ures therein  wrought,  was  a  never-failing  joy  to  me. 
O  my  Zebra  !  how  did  you  ever  grow  so  splendid 
off  yonder  in  the  South  Seas  ? 

We  chatted  that  evening  by  Gail's  fire,  till  my 
Zebra's  woolly  head  went  clean  to  the  floor,  and  he 
looked  like  some  prostrate  idol  about  to  be  immo- 
lated on  that  Christian  hearth  ;  and  the  baby  canni- 
bals were  as  funny  as  two  little  brown  rabbits,  with 
their  ears  clipped,  nestling  at  Gail's  patient  feet. 

It  was  fully  nine  o'clock  by  this  time,  so  Deborah 
got  the  Bible,  smoothed  out  her  apron,  and  opened 
it  thereon,  while  she  read  a  chapter.  We  sat  by  the 
fire  and  listened.  I  heard  the  earnest  voice  of  the 
reader,  while  the  autumn  winds  rose  in  gusts,  and 
puffed  out  the  curtains  now  and  then.  I  thought  of 


192  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

the  chilly  nights  and  frosty  mornings  we  were  to  en- 
dure— we  exiles  of  the  South.  I  thought  of  the 
snows  that  were  to  follow,  and  of  the  little  idolators 
sleeping  through  the  gospel,  with  deaf  ears  while 
their  hearts  panted  high  in  some  dream  of  savage 

joy- 
There  was  a  big  bed  made  up  on  the  floor  of  my 
room — the  best  Chamber  at  Gail's — and  there  I  laid 
out  my  little  pets,  tucking  them  in  with  infinite  con- 
cern ;  for  they  looked  so  like  three  diminutive  mum- 
mies, as  they  lay  there,  that  I  didn't  know  whether 
they  would  think  it  worth  while  to  wake  up  again 
into  life  ;  and  what  would  I  be  worth  then,  without 
my  wild  boys  ? — I,  who  was  born  by  some  mischance 
out  of  my  tropical  element,  and  whose  birthright  is 
Polynesia  !  Gail  laughed  when  she  saw  me  fretting 
so,  and  she  patted  the  curly  heads  of  the  babies, 
and  stroked  the  Zebra's  shaggy  pate,  and  said 
"  Good-night "  to  us,  as  her  step  measured  the  hall, 
and  a  door  closed  in  the  distance ;  whereupon,  in- 
stead of  freezing  in  the  icy  linen  of  the  spare  bed  at 
the  other  end  of  the  room,  I  crept  softly  into  the 
nest  of  cannibals,  and  we  slept  like  kittens  until 
morning. 

At  a  seasonable  hour  the  next  day,  I  got  my 
jewels — my  little  inhuman  jewels — into  their  thick, 
winter  clothes  again,  and  we  trotted  down  to  break- 
fast, as  hungry  as  bears.  Deborah  was  good  enough 
to  embrace  both  the  little  ones,  but  she  gave  the 
Zebra  a  wide  berth,  and  was  not  entirely  satisfied  at 
leaving  him  loose  in  the  house. 


MY  SOUTH-SEA   SHOW  193 

He  was  rather  odd-looking,  I  confess.  He  used  to 
curl  up  under  the  table  and  go  to  sleep,  at  all  hours 
of  the  day  —  I  think  it  was  the  cold  weather  that  en- 
couraged him  in  it—  stretching  himself,  now  and 
then,  like  a  spaniel,  and  showing  his  sharp  saw-teeth 
in  a  queer  way,  when  he  laughed  in  his  dreams. 
Presently  Gail  came  in,  and  we  sat  at  table,  and 
came  near  to  eating  her  out  of  house  and  home. 
Deborah  said  grace  —  rather  a  long  one,  considering 
we  were  so  hungry  —  a  grace  in  which  my  babies 
were  not  forgotten,  and  the  Zebra  was  made  the 
subject  of  a  special  prayer.  To  my  horror,  Zebra 
was  helping  himself  surreptitiously  to  the  nearest 
dish,  the  while.  It  was  a  merry  meal.  I  rose  in 
the  midst  of  it,  and  laid  before  Gail  an  enormous 
placard,  printed  in  as  many  colors  as  even  the  Zebra 
could  boast,  and  Gail  read  it  out  to  Deborah  : 

JENKINS'  HALL. 


FOR  ONE  NIGHT  ONLY! 

HOKY    AND    POKY, 

A  BRACK  OF  SOUTH-SEA  BABIES,   FROM  THE  ANCIENT  RIVERS  OF 
KABALA-KUM, 

—  and  — 
THE    WONDERFUL    BOY 

ZEBRA, 

A  CANNIBAL  PRINCE,  FROM  THE  PALMY  PLAINS  OF  POTTOBOKEE, 

IN  THEIR  GRAND  MORAL  DIVERSION. 
B~  The  first  and  only  opportunity  is  now  afforded  the  great  public 
to  observe  with  safety  how  the  heathen,  in  his  blindness, 

bows  down  to  wood  and  stone. 

&~  These  are  the  only  original  and  genuine  representatives  of  the 
Kabalakumists  and  Pottobokees  that  ever  left 

their  coral  strand. 

ADMISSION,  -  .    CHILDREN,  HALF  PRICE, 
13 


194  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

Deborah  was  awed  into  silence,  and  Gail  was 
apparently  thinking  over  the  possible  result  of  this 
strange  advertisement,  for  she  said  nothing,  but 
took  deliberate  sips  of  coffee,  and  broke  the  dry 
toast  between  her  fingers,  while  she  looked  at  all 
four  of  us  savages  in  a  peculiar  and  ominous  manner. 
Nothing  was  said,  however,  to  disparage  any  further 
announcement  of  the  entertainment ;  and,  having 
appeased  our  hunger,  we  adjourned  to  the  reading 
of  another  chapter,  during  which  the  South  Sea 
babies  would  play  cat's-cradles  under  Gail's  writing- 
table,  and  the  Zebra  put  his  foot  into  the  middle  of 
her  work-basket,  and  was  very  miserable  indeed. 

My  hands  were  full  of  business.  As  an  impres- 
sario  I  had  to  rush  about  all  day,  mustering  the 
Great  Public  for  the  evening.  Out  I  went,  full  of  it, 
while  the  bronze  midgets  were  left  in  charge  of 
Gail  and  Deborah,  and  the  Zebra  was  locked  in  an 
upper  room,  with  plenty  to  eat,  and  no  facilities 
for  getting  into  mischief.  I  saw  the  leading  men 
in  town  :  the  preacher,  who  was  deeply  interested, 
proposing  to  take  up  a  collection  on  the  next  Sab- 
bath for  our  benefit — which  proposition  I  received 
with  a  graceful  acquiescence  peculiarly  my  own  ; 
,the  professor,  at  the  Seminary,  who  was  less  affable, 
'but  whose  pupils  were  radiant  at  the  prospect  of 
getting  into  the  cannibals  at  reduced  rates  ;  and 
the  editor,  who  desired  to  print  full  biographies  of 
myself  and  cannibals,  with  portraits  and  fac-similes 
of  autographs.  He  strongly  urged  the  plausibility 
of  this  new  method  of  winning  the  heart  of  the 


MY  SOUTH-SEA    SHOW  19$ 

Great  Public,  and  was  willing  to  take  my  note  for 
thirty  days,  in  consideration  of  his  personal  friend- 
ship for  me,  and  his  sympathy,  as  a  public  man  and 
a  member  of  the  press,  with  the  show  business. 

Everything  worked  so  nicely  that  it  really  seemed 
quite  providential  that  I  had  come  as  I  had,  like 
anything  in  the  night — noiseless  and  unheralded. 
Everything  was  in  good  order,  and,  after  our  late 
dinner,  I  went  out  again,  to  finish  for  the  evening — 
portioning  off  my  charges,  as  before,  and  returning, 
at  the  last  moment,  to  bring  them  up  to  the  hall  for 
their  debut.  But  judge  of  my  horror  at  finding  my 
Zebra  stretched  upon  the  floor  of  his  room,  quite 
insensible  ;  and  all  this  time  Jenkins's  Hall  was 
thronged  with  the  Great  Public,  who  had  come  to 
see  us  bow  down  to  wood  and  stone. 

I  was  greatly  alarmed.  What  could  this  sudden 
attack  mean  ?  He  was  not  subject  to  disorders  of 
that  nature — at  least  I  had  never  seen  him  in  a  sim- 
ilar condition.  The  little  fellows  began  to  cry,  in 
their  peculiar  fashion,  which  is  simply  raising  the 
voice  to  the  highest  and  shrillest  pitch,  and  then 
shaking  to  an  unlimited  degree.  Gail  was  by  no 
means  charmed  at  these  new  developments,  and  De- 
borah fled  from  the  room.  In  a  moment  the  cause 
of  our  trouble  was  disclosed.  Gail's  cologne  bottles 
were  exhumed  from  under  the  bed,  but  quite  empty. 
Their  contents  had  been  imbibed  by  the  Zebra  in 
an  extemporaneous  bacchanalian  festival,  tendered 
to  himself  by  himself,  in  honor  of  the  occasion. 

It  was  useless  to  borrow  further  trouble,  so  I  pre- 


196  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

pared  my  apology  :  "  The  sudden  indisposition  pe- 
culiar to  young  cannibals  during  the  early  stages  of 
a  public  and  Christian  career  had  quite  prostrated 
the  representative  from  many  a  palmy  plain ;  and 
the  South- Sea  babies  would  endeavor  to  fill  the  va- 
cancy caused  by  his  absence  with  several  new  and 
interesting  features  not  set  down  in  the  bills." 

I  was  most  cordially  received  by  the  audience, 
and  the  little  midgets  danced  their  weird  and  fan- 
tastic dances,  in  the  least  possible  clothing  imagin- 
able, and  sang  their  love-lyrics,  and  chanted  their 
passionate  war-chants,  and  gave  the  funeral  wail  in 
a  manner  that  reflected  the  highest  credit  upon 
their  respective  South-Sea  papas  and  mammas.  I 
considered  it  an  entire  success,  and  pocketed  the 
proceeds  with  considerable  satisfaction. 

But  to  return  to  my  poor  little  Zebra.  His  co- 
logne-spree had  been  quite  too  much  for  him.  He 
was  mentally  and  physically  demoralized,  and  could 
be  of  no  use  to  me,  professionally,  for  a  week  at 
least.  I  at  once  saw  this,  and  as  I  had  two  or  three 
engagements  during  that  time,  I  begged  Gail  to  al- 
low him  to  remain  with  her  during  his  convales- 
cence, while  I  went  on  with  the  babes  and  fulfilled 
my  engagements.  She  consented.  Deborah  also 
promised  to  be  very  good  to  him.  I  think  she  took 
a  deeper  interest  in  him  when  she  found  how  very 
human  he  was — a  fact  she  did  not  fully  realize  until 
he  took  to  drinking. 

On  we  went,  through  three  little  villages,  in  three 
little  valleys,  with  crowded  houses  every  evening. 


MY  SOUTH- SEA    SHOW  IO7 

Delighted  and  enthusiastic  audiences  wanted  the 
midgets  passed  around,  just  as  we  passed  the  bone 
fish-hooks  and  shark's  teeth  combs,  for  inspection. 

About  this  time  I  received  a  short  and  decisive 
epistle  from  Gail — an  immediate  summons  home. 
The  Zebra,  in  an  unwatched  moment,  had  got  into 
the  kerosene,  and  was  considered  no  longer  a  wel- 
come guest  at  Gail's.  Deborah  was  praying  with 
him  daily,  which  didn't  seem  to  have  the  desired 
effect,  for  he  was  growing  worse  and  worse  every 
hour. 

There  were  at  least  seven  towns  anxiously  await- 
ing my  South-Sea  Lecture,  with  the  "  heathen  in  his 
blindness  "  attachment.  Yet  it  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion to  think  of  pressing  on  in  my  tour,  thereby  sac- 
rificing my  poor  Zebra,  and  possibly  Gail  as  well.  I 
feared  it  was  already  too  late  to  save  him,  for  I  knew 
the  nature  of  his  ailment,  and  foresaw  the  almost  in- 
evitable result.  When  we  returned,  Gail  met  us  with 
tears  in  her  eyes  and  furrows  of  care  foreshadowed  in 
her  face.  I  felt  how  great  a  responsibility  I  had 
shifted  upon  her  shoulders,  and  accused  myself 
roundly  for  such  selfishness.  The  babes  rushed 
into  her  arms  with  the  first  impulse  of  love,  and  re- 
fused to  allow  her  out  of  their  sight  again  for  some 
hours. 

Deborah  was,  even  then,  wrestling  with  the  angels 
up  in  Zebra's  room,  and  I  waited  until  she  came 
down,  with  her  eyes  red  and  swollen  ;  a  bottle  of 
physic  in  one  hand  and  a  Bible  in  the  other  ;  then  I 
went  in  to  my  poor,  thin,  shadowy  little  Zebra,  who 


198  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

was  wild-eyed  and  nervous,  and  scarcely  knew  me  at 
first,  but  went  off  into  hysterics  the  moment  he 
found  me  out,  to  make  up  for  it.  He  had  had  no 
opportunity  of  speaking  to  anyone,  save  in  his 
broken  English,  for  several  days,  and  he  rushed  into 
a  torrent  of  ejaculations  so  violent  and  confusing 
that  I  was  thoroughly  alarmed  at  his  condition. 
Presently  he  grew  quieter,  from  sheer  exhaustion, 
and  then  I  learned  how  he  had  taken  Deborah's 
well-intended  efforts  toward  his  spiritual  conversion. 
He  believed  her  praying  him  to  death !  Deborah 
knew  nothing  of  the  sensitive  organism  of  these  isl- 
anders. When  moved  by  a  spirit  of  revenge,  they 
threaten  one  another  with  prayers.  Incantations 
are  performed  and  sacrifices  offered,  under  which 
fearful  spells  the  unhappy  victim  of  revenge  cannot 
think  of  surviving.  So  he  lies  down  and  dies,  with- 
out pain,  or  any  effort  on  his  part ;  and  all  your 
physic  is  like  so  much  water,  administer  it  in  what 
proportions  you  choose. 

I  went  into  the  garden,  where  I  saw  Gail  under 
the  maples — the  very  maples  that  were  budding  in 
pink  and  white  when  she  wrote  me  the  letter  bid- 
eing  me  come  out  of  the  South,  bringing  my 
sheaves  with  me.  The  animated  sheaves  were  even 
then  swinging  on  the  clothes-lines,  and  taking  life 
easily.  "  Gail,"  I  said,  "  O  Gail,  the  Zebra  is  a 
dead  boy !  "  Gail  was  shocked  and  silent.  I  told 
her  how  useless,  how  hopeless  it  was  to  think  of  sav- 
ing him.  All  the  doctors  and  all  the  medicines  in 
the  world  were  a  fallacy  where  the  soul  was  over- 


MY  SOUTH-SEA   SHOW  199 

shadowed  with  a  malediction.  "Gail,"  I  said,  "  that 
Zebra  says  he  wants  to  be  an  angel,  and  he  couldn't 
possibly  have  decided  upon  anything  more  unrea- 
sonable than  this.  What  shall  I  do  without  my  Ze- 
bra ?  "  And  I  walked  off  by  myself,  and  felt  des- 
perately, while  Gail  was  wrapped  in  thought,  and 
the  babes  continued  to  do  inexpressible  things  on 
the  clothes-lines,  to  the  intense  admiration  of  three 
small  boys  on  the  other  side  of  the  garden-fence. 

The  doctor  had  already  been  called,  and  the 
physic  that  Deborah  carried  about  with  her  was  a 
legitimate  draught  prescribed  by  him.  Little  did 
he  know  of  the  death-angel  that  walks  hand-in-hand 
with  a  superstition  as  antique  as  Mount  Ararat.  So 
day  by  day  the  little  Zebra  grew  more  and  more 
slender,  till  his  frail,  striped  skeleton  stretched  it- 
self in  a  hollow  of  the  bed,  and  great  gleaming  eyes 
watched  me  as  they  would  devour  me  with  death- 
less and  passionate  love. 

Sometimes  his  soul  seemed  to  steal  out  of  his 
withering  body  and  make  mysterious  pilgrimages 
into  its  native  clime.  I  heard  him  murmuring  and 
muttering  in  a  language  unfamiliar  to  me.  I  re- 
membered that  the  chiefs  had  a  dialect  of  their  own— 
a  vocabulary  so  sacred  and  secret  that  no  commoner 
ever  dared  to  study  out  its  meaning.  This  I  took  to 
be  his  classical  and  royal  tongue,  for  he  was  of  the 
best  blood  of  the  kingdom,  and  a  King's  heir. 

Deborah,  at  the  delicate  suggestion  of  Gail,  dis- 
continued her  visitations  to  his  chamber,  as  it 
seemed  to  excite  him  so  sadly  ;  but  her  earnest  soul 


200  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

never  rested  from  prayer  in  his  behalf  till  his  last 
breath  was  spent,  and  his  splendid  stripes  grew 
livid  for  a  moment,  and  seemed  to  change  like  the 
dolphin's  before  their  waning  glories  were  faded 
out  in  the  lifeless  flesh. 

One  twilight  I  took  the  midgets  into  the  darkened 
room.  They  scarcely  knew  the  thin,  drawn  face, 
with  the  slender,  wiry  fingers  locked  over  it,  but 
they  recognized  the  death- stroke  with  prophetic  in- 
stinct, and  crouching  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  rocked 
their  dusky  bodies  to  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  wailing 
the  death-wail  for  Zebra. 

Then  I  longed  for  wings  to  fly  away  with  my 
savage  brood — away  over  seas  and  mountains,  till 
the  palms  waved  again  their  phantom  crests  in  the 
mellow  starlight,  and  the  sea  moaned  upon  the  reef, 
and  the  rivulet  leaped  from  crag  to  crag  through  si- 
lence and  shadow  :  where  death  seemed  but  a  grate- 
ful sleep  ;  for  the  soul  that  dawned  in  that  quiet  life 
had  never  known  the  wear  and  tear  of  this  one,  but 
was  patient,  and  peaceful,  and  ready  at  any  hour  of 
summons. 

Dear  Gail  strove  to  comfort  me  in  my  tribulation  ; 
but  the  Great  Public  went  its  way,  and  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  young  soul  that  was  passing  in  speedy 
death.  Yet  the  Great  Public  was  my  guide,  phi- 
losopher, and  friend.  I  could  do  nothing  without 
its  sanction  and  co-operation.  I  basked  in  its  smiles. 
I  trembled  at  the  thought  of  its  displeasure  ;  and 
now  death  was  robbing  me  of  my  hard-earned 
riches,  and  annihilating  my  best  attraction.  No 


MY  SOUTH-SEA    SHOW  2OI 

wonder  I  fretted  myself,  and  berated  my  ill-fortune. 
Poor  Gail  had  her  hands  full  to  keep  me  within 
bounds.  I  rushed  to  the  Zebra's  room,  and  vowed 
to  him  that  if  he  wouldn't  die  just  yet,  I  would  take 
him  home  at  once  to  his  kingdom,  and  we'd  always 
live  there,  and  die  there,  by  and  by,  when  we  were 
full  of  years. 

Alas,  it  was  too  late!  "I  want  to  bean  angel," 
reiterated  my  Zebra,  his  thin  face  brightening  with 
an  unearthly  light ;  "  to  be  an  angel,"  whispered 
that  faint  and  failing  voice,  while  his  humid  eyes 
glowed  like  twin  moons  sinking  in  the  far,  mystical 
horizon  of  the  new  life  he  was  about  to  enter  upon. 
I  struggled  with  him  no  longer.  I  bowed  down  by 
his  pillow,  and  pressed  the  shadowy  form  of  my  once 
beautiful  Zebra.  "  Well,  be  an  angel,  little  prince," 
said  I ;  "be  anything  you  please,  now,  for  I  have 
done  my  best  to  save  you,  and  failed  utterly." 

So  he  passed  hence  to  his  destiny  ;  and  his  nation 
wept  not,  neither  wore  they  ashes  upon  their  heads, 
nor  burned  seams  in  their  flesh  ;  for  they  knew  not 
of  his  fate.  But  there  was  a  small  grave  digged  in 
the  orchard,  and  at  dusk  I  carrried  the  coffin  in  my 
arms  thither :  how  light  it  was !  he  could  have 
borne  me  upon  his  brawny  shoulders  once — strong 
as  a  lion's.  Gail  cried,  and  Deborah  cried ;  and  I 
was  quite  beside  myself.  The  mites  of  cannibals 
ate  earth  and  ashes,  and  came  nearly  naked  to  the 
obsequies,  refusing  to  wear  their  jackets,  though 
the  air  was  frosty  and  the  night  promised  snow. 
We  knelt  there,  to  cover  Zebra  for  the  last  time, 


2O2  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

crying  and  shivering,  and  feeling  very,  very  miser- 
able. 

I  took  a  little  rest  from  business  after  that ;  see- 
ing, meantime,  a  stone  cut  in  this  manner : 

Here  lies, 
In  this  far  land, 

A  PRINCE  OP  THE  SAVAGE  SOUTH, 
And  the  Last  of  his  Tribe. 

But  life  called  me  into  the  arena  again.  A  show- 
man has  little  time  to  waste  in  mourning  over  his 
losses,  however  serious  they  may  be. 

One  frosty  evening  I  got  my  brace  of  cannibals 
into  the  lumbering  ambulance  that  constituted  my 
caravan,  with  our  boxes  of  war-clubs  and  carved 
whale's-teeth  lashed  on  behind  us ;  plenty  of  buf- 
falo-robes around  us,  and  a  layer  of  hot  bricks  un- 
derfoot, and  so  we  started  for  our  next  scene  of 
action.  The  inexorable  calls  of  the  profession  for- 
bade our  lingering  longer  under  Gail's  hospitable 
roof ;  and  it  was  not  without  pangs  of  inexpress- 
ible sorrow  that  we  turned  from  her  door,  and  knew 
not  if  we  were  ever  again  to  enjoy  the  pure  influ- 
ences of  her  household. 

My  heart  warmed  toward  poor,  disconsolate  De- 
borah in  that  moment,  and  I  forgave  her  all,  which 
was  the  most  Christian  act  I  ever  yet  performed.  As 
we  rode  down  the  lane,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
low  mound  in  the  orchard,  and  I  buried  my  little 
barbarians  under  my  great-coat,  so  as  to  spare  them 
a  fresh  sorrow,  while  I  thought  how,  spring  after 


MY  SOUTH-SEA    SHOW  2O3 

spring,  that  small  grave  would  be  covered  with  drifts 
of  pale  apple-blossoms,  and  in  the  long  winters  it 
would  be  hidden  under  the  paler  drifts  of  snow — 
when  it  should  be  strewn  with  sea-shells,  and  laid 
away  under  a  cactus-hedge,  in  a  dense  and  fragrant 
shade  ;  and  I  gathered  my  little  ones  closer  to  me, 
and  said  in  my  soul :  "  O,  if  the  August  Public  could 
only  know  them  as  I  know  them,  it  would  doubt  us 
less,  and  love  us  more  !  The  Zebra  is  gone,  indeed, 
but  my  babes  are  here,  fresh  souls  in  perfect  bodies, 
like  rareripe  fruits,  untouched  as  yet,  with  the  nap 
and  the  dew  upon  them."  The  stars  sparkled  and 
flashed  in  the  cloudless  sky,  as  we  hurried  over  the 
crisp  ground,  a  little  bereaved,  benighted  company 
of  South-Sea  strollers,  who  ask  your  charity,  and 
give  their  best  in  return  for  it. 

I  have  told  you  of  my  South-Sea  show.  You  may 
yet  have  an  opportunity  of  judging  how  you  like  it, 
provided  my  baby  heathens  don't  insist  upon  turn- 
ing into  angels  before  their  time,  after  the  manner  of 
the  lamented  Zebra.  In  the  meantime,  the  dread 
of  this  not  improbable  curbing  of  my  high  career  is 
but  one  of  the  sorrows  of  a  South-Sea  showman. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SUN 


MY  Hawaiian  oracle,  Kahele,  having  posed  him- 
self in  compact  and  chubby  grace,  awaited 
his  golden  opportunity,  which  was  not  long  a-com- 

ing.     I  sat  on  the  steps  of  L 's  veranda,  and 

yawned  frightfully,  because  life  was  growing  tedious, 
and  I  did  not  know  exactly  what  to  do  next. 

L 's  house  was  set  in  the  nicest  kind  of  climate, 

at  the  foot  of  a  great  mountain,  just  at  that  altitude 
where  the  hot  air  stopped  dancing,  though  it  was 
never  cool  enough  to  shut  a  door,  or  to  think  of 
wearing  a  hat  for  any  other  purpose  than  to  keep  the 

sun  out  of  one's  eyes.     L 's  veranda  ran  out  into 

vacancy  as  blank  as  cloudless  sky  and  shadowless  sea 
could  make  it ;  in  fact,  all  that  the  eye  found  to  rest 
upon  was  the  low  hill  jutting  off  from  one  corner  of 
the  house  beyond  a  jasmine  in  blossom  ;  and  under 
the  hill  a  flat-sailed  schooner  rocking  in  a  calm.  I 
think  there  was  nothing  else  down  the  slope  of  the 
mountain  but  tangled  yellow  grass,  that  grew  brown 
and  scant  as  it  crept  into  the  torrid  zone,  a  thou- 
sand feet  below  us,  and  there  it  had  not  the  courage 
to  come  out  of  the  earth  at  all ;  so  the  picture  ended 
in  a  blazing  beach,  with  warm  waves  sliding  up  and 


THE  HOUSE   OF  THE  SUN  2O5 

down  it,  backed  by  blue-watery  and  blue-airy  space 
for  thousands  and  thousands  of  miles. 

Why  should  not  a  fellow  yawn  over  the  situation  ? 

especially  as  L was  busy  and  could  not  talk 

much,  and  L 's  books  were  as  old  as  the  hills 

and  a  good  deal  drier. 

Having  yawned,  I  turned  toward  Kahe"le,  and 
gnashed  my  teeth.  The  little  rascal  looked  know- 
ing ;  his  hour  had  come.  He  fired  off  in  broken 
English,  and  the  effect  was  something  like  this  : 

"  Suppose  we  sleep  in  House  of  the  Sun — we  make 
plenty  good  sceneries  ! " 

"  And  where  is  that  ?  "  quoth  I. 

Kahele's  little  lump  of  a  nose  was  jerked  up  to- 
ward the  great  mountain  at  the  back  of  L 's 

house.  "  Haleakala  !  "  *  cried  he,  triumphantly,  for 
he  saw  he  had  resurrected  my  interest  in  life,  and 
felt  that  he  had  a  thing  or  two  worth  showing,  a 
glimpse  of  which  might  content  me  with  this  world, 
dull  as  I  found  it  just  then.  "  Haleakala — the  House 
of  the  Sun — up  before  us,"  said  Kahele. 

"And  to  get  into  the  Sun's  House  ?  " 

"  Make  a  good  climb  up,  and  go  in  from  the  top  !  " 

Ha !  to  creep  up  the  roof  and  drop  in  at  the  sky- 
light :  this  were  indeed  a  royal  adventure.  "  How 
long  would  it  take  ?  " 

Kahele  waxed  eloquent.  That  night  we  should 
sleep  a  little  up  on  the  slope  of  the  mountain,  lodg- 
ing with  the  haolis  (foreigners)  among  the  first 

"Haleakala,  an  extinct  crater  in  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
supposed  to  be  the  largest  in  the  world. 


2O6  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

clouds  ;  in  the  morning  we  should  surprise  the  sun 
in  the  turrets  of  his  temple  ;  then  down — down — 
down  into  the  crater,  that  had  been  strewn  with 
ashes  for  a  thousand  years.  After  that,  out  on  the 
other  side,  toward  the  sea,  where  the  trade-winds 
blew,  and  the  country  was  fresh  and  fruitful.  The 
youngster  sweated  with  enthusiasm  while  he  strove 
to  make  me  comprehend  the  full  extent  of  the 
delights  pertaining  to  this  journey ;  and,  as  he 
finished,  he  made  a  rapid  flank  movement  toward 
the  animals,  staked  a  few  rods  away. 

It  was  not  necessary  that  I  should  consent  to 
undertake  this  expedition.  He  was  eager  to  go,  and 
he  would  see  that  I  enjoyed  myself  when  I  went ; 
but  go  I  must,  now  that  he  had  made  up  my  mind 
for  me.  I  confess,  I  was  as  wax  in  that  climate. 
Yet,  why  not  take  this  promising  and  uncommon 
tour?  The  charm  of  travel  is  to  break  new  paths. 
I  ceased  to  yawn  any  further  over  life.  Kahele  went 

to  the  beasts  and  began  saddling  them.  L 's 

hospitality  culminated  in  a  bottle  of  cold  black 
coffee,  and  a  hamper  of  delicious  sandwiches,  such 

as  Mrs.  L excels  in.  I  had  nothing  to  do  but 

to  go.  It  did  look  like  a  conspiracy  ;  but,  as  I 
never  had  the  moral  courage  to  fight  against  any- 
thing of  that  sort,  I  got  into  the  saddle  and  went. 

Turning  for  a  moment  toward  the  brute's  tail, 
overcome  with  conflicting  emotions,  I  said  : 

"  Adieu,  dear  L ,  thou  picture  of  boisterous 

industry  !  Adieu,  Mrs.  L ,  whose  light  is  hid 

under  the  bushel  of  thy  lord  ;  but,  as  it  warms  him, 


THE  HOUSE   OF  THE  SUN  2O/ 

it  is  all  right,  I  suppose,  and  thy  reward  shall  come 
to  thee  some  day,  I  trust !  By-by,  multitudes  of 
little  L s,  tumbling  recklessly  in  the  back- 
yard, crowned  with  youth  and  robust  health  and 
plenty  of  flaxen  curls !  Away,  Kahele  !  for  it  is  to- 
ward evening,  and  the  clouds  are  skating  along 
the  roof  of  the  House  of  the  Sun.  Sit  not  upon 
the  order  of  your  going,  but  strike  spurs  at  once — 
and  away  !  " 

It  was  thus  that  I  relieved  myself.  The  prospect 
of  fresh  adventure  intoxicated  me.  I  do  not  believe 
f  could  have  been  bought  off  after  that  enlivening 
farewell.  The  air  of  the  highlands  was  charged  with 
electricity.  I  bristled  all  over  with  new  life.  I 
wanted  to  stand  up  in  my  saddle  and  fly. 

It  seemed  the  boy  had  engaged  a  special  guide  for 
the  crater — one  accustomed  to  feeling  his  way 
through  the  bleak  hollow,  where  any  unpractised 
feet  must  have  surely  gone  astray.  Kahele  offered 
him  a  tempting  bonus  to  head  our  little  caravan  at 
once,  though  it  goes  sorely  against  the  Hawaiian 
grain  to  make  up  a  mind  inside  of  three  days. 
Kahele  managed  the  financial  department,  whenever 
he  had  the  opportunity,  with  a  liberality  worthy 
of  a  purse  ten  times  as  weighty  as  mine  ;  but,  as  he 
afterward  assured  me,  that  guide  was  a  fine  man, 
and  a  friend  of  his  whom  it  was  a  pleasure  and  a 
privilege  to  serve. 

Of  course  it  was  all  right,  since  I  couldn't  help 
myself  ;  and  we  three  pulled  up  the  long  slopes  of 
Haleakala,  while  the  clouds  multiplied  as  the  sun 


2O8  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

sank,  and  the  evening  grew  awfully  still.  Some- 
where up  among  the  low-hanging  mist  there  was  a 
house  full  of  haolis,  and  there  we  proposed  to  spend 
the  night.  We  were  looking  for  this  shelter  with  all 
our  six  eyes,  while  we  rode  slowly  onward,  having 
scarcely  uttered  a  syllable  for  the  last  half  hour. 
You  know  there  are  some  impressive  sorts  of  solitude 
that  seal  up  a  fellow's  lips  ;  he  can  only  look  about 
him  in  quiet  wonderment,  tempered  with  a  fearless 
and  refreshing  trust  in  that  Providence  who  has 
enjoined  silence.  Well,  this  was  one  of  those  times ; 
and  right  in  the  midst  of  it  Kahele  sighted  a  smoke- 
wreath  in  the  distance.  To  me  it  looked  very  like 
a  cloud,  and  I  ventured  to  declare  it  such  ;  but  the 
youngster  frowned  me  down,  and  appealed  to  the 
special  guide  for  further  testimony.  The  guide 
declined  to  commit  himself  in  the  matter  of  smoke 
or  mist,  as  he  ever  did  on  all  succeeding  occasions, 
being  a  wise  guide,  who  knew  his  own  fallibility.  It 
was  smoke  ! — a  thin,  blue  ribbon  of  it,  uncoiling 
itself  from  among  the  branches  of  the  overhanging 
trees,  floating  up  and  up  and  tying  itself  into  double- 
bow  knots,  and  then  trying  to  untie  itself,  but 
perishing  in  the  attempt. 

In  the  edge  of  the  grove  we  saw  the  little  white 
cottage  of  the  haolis;  and,  not  far  away,  a  camp-fire, 
with  bright,  red  flames  dancing  around  a  kettle, 
swung  under  three  stakes  with  their  three  heads 
together.  Tall  figures  were  moving  about  the  camp, 
looking  almost  like  ghosts,  in  the  uncertain  glow 
of  the  fire  ;  and  toward  these  lights  and  shadows 


THE  HOUSE   OF  THE  SUN  2OQ 

we  jwgged  with  satisfaction,  scenting  supper  from 
afar. 

"  Halloo !  "  said  we,  with  voices  that  did  not  sound 
very  loud,  up  in  that  thin  atmosphere. 

"  Halloo  !  "  said  they,  with  the  deepest  uncon- 
cern, as  though  they  had  been  through  the  whole 
range  of  human  experience,  and  there  was  positively 
nothing  left  for  them  to  get  excited  over. 

Some  of  their  animals  whinnied  in  a  fashion  that 
drew  a  response  from  ours.  A  dog  barked  savagely 
until  he  was  spoken  to,  and  then  was  obliged  to 
content  himself  with  an  occasional  whine.  Some 
animal — a  sheep,  perhaps — rose  up  in  the  trail 
before  us,  and  plunged  into  the  bush,  sending  our 
beasts  back  on  their  haunches  with  fright.  A  field- 
cricket  lifted  up  his  voice  and  sang  ;  and  then  a 
hundred  joined  him  ;  and  then  ten  thousand  times 
ten  thousand  swelled  the  chorus,  till  the  mountains 
were  alive  with  singing  crickets. 

"  Halloo,  stranger  !  Come  in  and  stop  a  bit,  won't 
you  ?  "  That  was  our  welcome  from  the  chief  of  the 
camp,  who  came  a  step  or  two  forward,  as  soon  as 
we  had  ridden  within  range  of  the  camp-fire. 

And  we  went  in  unto  them,  and  ate  of  their  bread, 
and  drank  of  their  coffee,  and  slept  in  their  blan- 
kets— or  tried  to  sleep — and  had  a  mighty  good 
time  generally. 

The   mountaineers  proved  to  be  a  company  of 

California  miners,  who  had  somehow   drifted  over 

the  sea,  and,  once  on  that  side,  they  naturally  enough 

went  into  the  mountains  to  cut  wood,  break  trails, 

14 


2IO  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

and  make  themselves  useful  in  a  rough,  out-of-door 
fashion.  They  had  for  companions  and  assistants  a 
few  natives,  who,  no  doubt,  did  the  best  they  could, 
though  the  Calif ornians  expressed  considerable  con- 
tempt for  the  "  lazy  devils,  who  were  fit  for  nothing 
but  to  fiddle  on  a  Jew's  harp." 

We  ate  of  a  thin,  hot  cake,  baked  in  a  frying-pan 
over  that  camp  fire  ;  gnawed  a  boiled  bone  fished 
out  of  the  kettles  swung  under  the  three  sticks  ; 
drank  big  bowls  of  coffee,  sweetened  with  coarse 
brown  sugar  and  guiltless  of  milk  ;  and  sat  on  the 
floor  all  the  while,  with  our  legs  crossed,  like  so 
many  Turks  and  tailors.  We  went  to  our  blankets 
as  soon  as  the  camp-fire  had  smothered  itself  in  ashes, 
though  meanwhile  Jack,  chief  of  the  camp,  gathered 
himself  to  windward  of  the  flames,  with  his  hips  on 
his  heels  and  his  chin  on  his  knees,  smoking  a  stub- 
by pipe  and  talking  of  flush  times  in  California.  He 
was  one  of  those  men  who  could  and  would  part  with 
his  last  quarter,  relying  upon  Nature  for  his  bed  and 
board.  He  said  to  me,  "  If  you  can  rough  it,  hang 
on  a  while — what's  to  drive  you  off?"  I  could 
rough  it :  the  fire  was  out,  the  night  chilly  ;  so  we 
turned  in  under  blue  blankets  with  a  fuzz  on  them 
like  moss,  and,  having  puffed  out  the  candle — that 
lived  long  enough  to  avenge  its  death  in  a  houseful 
of  villanous  smoke — we  turned  over  two  or  three 
times  apiece,  and,  one  after  another,  fell  asleep.  At 
the  farther  side  of  the  house  lay  the  natives,  as  thick 
as  sheep  in  a  pen,  one  of  them  a  glossy  black  fellow, 
as  sleek  as  a  eunuch,  born  in  the  West  Indies,  but 


THE  HOUSE   OF  THE  SUN  211 

whose  sands  of  life  had  been  scattered  on  various 
shores.  This  sooty  fellow  twanged  a  quaint  instru- 
ment of  native  workmanship,  and  twanged  with  un- 
common skill.  His  art  was  the  life  of  that  savage 
community  at  the  other  end  of  the  house.  Again 
and  again,  during  the  night,  I  awoke  and  heard  the 
tinkle  of  his  primitive  harp,  mingled  with  the  ejac- 
ulations of  delight  wrung  from  the  hearts  of  his 
dusky  and  sleepless  listeners. 

Once  only  was  that  midnight  festival  interrupted. 
We  all  awoke  suddenly  and  simultaneously,  though 
we  scarcely  knew  why ;  then  the  dog  began  to  mouth 
horribly.  My  blanket-fellows— beds  we  had  none—- 
knew there  was  mischief  brewing,  and  rushed  out 
with  their  guns  cocked.  Presently  the  dog  came  in 
from  the  brush,  complaining  bitterly,  and  one  of  the 
miners  shot  at  a  rag  fluttering  among  the  bushes. 
In  the  morning  we  found  a  horse  gone,  and  a  couple 
of  bullet- holes  in  a  shirt  spread  out  to  dry.  As  soon 
as  the  excitement  was  over,  we  returned  to  the  blan- 
kets and  the  floor.  The  eunuch  tuned  his  harp  anew 
and,  after  a  long  while,  dawn  looked  in  at  the  un- 
curtained window,  with  a  pale,  gray  face,  freckled 
with  stars. 

Kahele  saw  it  as  soon  as  I  did,  and  was  up  betimes. 
I  fancy  he  slept  little  or  none  that  night,  for  he  was 
fond  of  music,  and  especially  fond  of  such  music  as 
had  made  the  last  few  hours  more  or  less  hideous. 
Everybody  rose  with  the  break  of  day,  and  there  was 
something  to  eat  long  before  sunrise,  after  which  our 
caravan,  with  new  vigor,  headed  for  the  summit. 


212  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

Wonderful  clouds  swept  by  us  ;  sometimes  we 
were  lost  for  a  moment  in  their  icy  depths.  I  could 
scarcely  see  the  tall  ears  of  my  mule  when  we  rode 
into  those  opaque  billows  of  vapor  that  swept  noise- 
lessly along  the  awful  heights  we  were  scaling.  It 
was  a  momentary  but  severe  bereavement,  the  loss 
of  those  ears  and  the  head  that  went  with  them, 
because  I  cared  not  to  ride  saddles  that  seemed  to 
be  floating  in  the  air.  What  was  Prince  Firouz 
Schah  to  me,  or  what  was  I  to  the  Princess  of  Ben- 
gal, that  I  should  do  this  thing ! 

There  are  pleasanter  sensations  than  that  of  going 
to  heaven  on  horseback ;  and  we  wondered  if  we 
should  ever  reach  the  point  where  we  could  begin 
to  descend  again  to  our  natural  level,  and  talk  with 
people  infinitely  below  us  just  then.  Ten  thousand 
perpendicular  feet  in  the  air ;  our  breath  short ;  our 
animals  weak  in  the  knees ;  the  ocean  rising  about 
us  like  a  wall  of  sapphire,  on  the  top  of  which  the 
sky  rested  like  a  cover — we  felt  as  though  we  were 
shut  in  an  exhausted  receiver,  the  victims  of  some 
scientific  experiment  for  the  delectation  of  the  an- 
gels. We  were  at  the  very  top  of  the  earth.  There 
was  nothing  on  our  side  of  it  nearer  to  Saturn  than 
the  crown  of  our  heads.  It  was  deuced  solemn,  and 
a  trifle  embarrassing.  It  was  as  though  we  were 
personally  responsible  for  the  planet  during  the 
second  we  happened  to  be  uppermost  in  the  uni- 
verse. I  felt  unequal  to  the  occasion  in  that  thin, 
relaxing  atmosphere.  The  special  guide,  I  knew, 
would  shirk  this  august  investiture,  as  he  shirked 


THE  HOUSE   OF  THE  SUN  213 

everything  else,  save  only  the  watchful  care  of  rny 
collapsing  porte-monnaie.  Kahele,  perhaps,  would 
represent  us  to  the  best  of  his  ability — which  was 
not  much  beyond  an  amazing  capacity  for  food  and 
sleep,  coupled  with  cheek  for  at  least  two  of  his  size. 
There  is  danger  in  delay,  saith  the  copybook ;  and 
while  we  crept  slowly  onward  toward  the  rim  of  the 
crater,  the  sun  rose,  and  we  forgot  all  else  save  his 
glory.  We  had  reached  the  mouth  of  the  chasm. 
Below  us  yawned  a  gulf  whose  farther  walls  seemed 
the  outlines  of  some  distant  island,  within  whose 
depths  a  sea  of  cloud  was  satisfied  to  ebb  and  flow, 
whose  billows  broke  noiselessly  at  the  base  of  the 
sombre  walls  among  whose  battlements  we  clung 
like  insects.  I  wonder  that  we  were  not  dragged 
into  that  awful  sea,  for  strange  and  sudden  gusts  of 
wind  swept  past  us,  coming  from  various  quarters, 
and  rushing  like  heralds  to  the  four  corners  of  the 
heavens.  We  were  far  above  the  currents  that  girdle 
the  lower  earth,  and  seemed  in  a  measure  cut  off 
from  the  life  that  was  past.  We  lived  and  breathed 
in  cloud-land.  All  our  pictures  were  of  vapor ;  our 
surroundings  changed  continually.  Forests  laced 
with  frost ;  silvery,  silent  seas ;  shores  of  agate  and 
of  pearl ;  blue,  shadowy  caverns  ;  mountains  of  light, 
dissolving  and  rising  again  transfigured  in  glorious 
resurrection,  the  sun  tingeing  them  with  infinite 
color.  A  flood  of  radiance  swept  over  the  myste- 
rious picture — a  deluge  of  blood-red  glory  that  came 
and  went  like  a  blush ;  and  then  the  mists  faded  and 
fled  away,  and  gradually  we  saw  the  deep  bed  of  the 


214  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

crater,  blackened,  scarred,  distorted  —  a  desert  of 
ashes  and  cinders  shut  in  by  sooty  walls ;  no  tinge 
of  green,  no  suggestion  of  life,  no  sound  to  relieve 
the  imposing  silence  of  that  literal  death  of  Nature. 
We  were  about  to  enter  the  guest-chamber  of  the 
House  of  the  Sun.  If  we  had  been  spirited  away 
to  the  enchanted  cavern  of  some  ge"nie,  we  could  not 
have  been  more  bewildered.  The  cloud-world  had 
come  to  an  untimely  end,  and  we  were  left  alone 
among  its  blackened  and  charred  ruins.  That  ma- 
gician, the  sun,  hearing  the  approach  of  spies,  had 
transformed  his  fairy  palace  into  a  bare  and  unin- 
viting wilderness.  But  we  were  destined  to  explore 
it,  notwithstanding ;  and  our  next  move  was  to  dis- 
mount and  drive  our  unwilling  animals  over  into  the 
abyss.  The  angle  of  our  descent  was  too  near  the 
perpendicular  to  sound  like  truth,  in  print.  I  will 
not  venture  to  give  it ;  but  I  remember  that  our 
particular  guide  and  his  beast  were  under  foot,  while 
Kahele  and  his  beast  were  overhead,  and  I  and  my 
beast,  sandwiched  between,  managed  to  survive  the 
double  horror  of  being  buried  in  the  debris  that 
rained  upon  us  from  the  tail  end  of  the  caravan,  and 
slaying  the  unfortunate  leaders  ahead  with  the  mul- 
titude of  rocks  we  sent  thundering  down  the  cliff. 
A  moving  avalanche  of  stones  and  dust  gradually 
brought  us  to  the  bed  of  the  crater,  where  we  offered 
thanks  in  the  midst  of  an  ascending  cloud  of  cinders, 
every  soul  of  us  panting  with  exhaustion,  and  oozing 
like  a  saturated  sponge.  The  heat  was  terrific  ; 
shelter  there  was  none  ;  L 's  coffee  was  all  that 


THE   HOUSE    OF   THE   SUN  21$ 

saved  us  from  despair.  Before  us  stretched  miles 
and  miles  of  lava,  looking  like  a  scorched  pie-crust ; 
two  thousand  feet  above  us  hung  heavy  masses  of 
baked  masonry,  unrelieved  by  any  tinge  of  verdure. 
To  the  windward  there  was  a  gap  in  the  walls, 
through  which  forked  tongues  of  mist  ran  in,  but 
curled  up  and  over  the  ragged  cliffs,  as  though  the 
prospect  were  too  uninviting  to  lure  them  farther. 
It  behooved  us  to  get  on  apace,  for  life  in  the  de- 
serted House  of  the  Sun  was,  indeed,  a  burden,  and 
moreover  there  was  some  danger  of  our  being  locked 
in.  The  wind  might  veer  a  little,  in  which  case  an 
ocean  of  mist  would  deluge  the  crater,  shutting  out 
light  and  heat,  and  bewildering  the  pilgrim  so  that 
escape  were  impossible.  The  loadstone  bewitched 
the  compass  in  that  fixed  sea,  and  there  were  no 
beacons  and  no  sounding  signals  to  steer  by.  Across 
the  smooth,  hard  lava  occasional  traces  of  a  trail 
were  visible,  like  scratches  upon  glass.  Close  to  the 
edges  of  this  perilous  path  yawned  chasms.  Some- 
times the  narrow  way  led  over  a  ridge  between  two 
sandy  hollows,  out  of  which  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  return,  if  one  false  step  should  plunge  you  into 
its  yielding  vortex.  There  was  a  long  pull  toward 
afternoon,  and  a  sweltering  camp  about  three  P.M., 

where  we  finished  L 's  lunch,  and  were  not  half 

satisfied.  Even  the  consoling  weed  barely  sustained 
our  fainting  spirits,  for  we  knew  that  the  more  tedi- 
ous portion  of  the  journey  was  yet  to  come. 

The  windward  vestibule  wound  down  toward  the 
sea,  a  wild  gorge  through  which  the  molten  lava  had 


2l6  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

poured  its  destructive  flood.  There  it  lay,  a  broad, 
uneven  pass  of  dead,  black  coals — clinkers  as  ragged 
and  sharp  as  broken  glass — threaded  by  one  beaten 
track  a  few  inches  in  breath.  To  lose  this  trail  were 
to  tear  the  hoofs  from  your  suffering  beasts  in  an 
hour  or  two,  and  to  lacerate  your  own  feet  in  half  the 
time.  Having  refreshed  ourselves  on  next  to  noth- 
ing, we  pressed  forward.  Already  the  shadows  were 
creeping  into  the  House  of  the  Sun,  and  as  yet  we 
had  scarcely  gained  the  mouth  of  the  pass.  As  we 
rode  out  from  the  shelter  of  a  bluff,  a  cold  draught 
struck  us  like  a  wave  of  the  sea.  Down  the  bleak, 
winding  chasm  we  saw  clouds  approaching,  pale 
messengers  that  travel  with  the  trade-wind  and  find 
lodgement  in  the  House  of  the  Sun.  They  were 
hastening  home  betimes,  and  had  surprised  us  in  the 
passage.  It  was  an  unwelcome  meeting.  Our  par- 
ticular guide  ventured  to  assume  an  expression  of 
concern,  and  cautiously  remarked  that  we  were 
pilikia — that  is,  in  trouble  !  For  once  he  was  equal 
to  an  emergency ;  he  knew  of  a  dry  well  close  at 
hand  ;  we  could  drop  into  it  and  pass  the  night, 
since  it  was  impossible  to  feel  our  way  out  of  the 
crater  through  clouds  almost  as  dense  as  cotton. 
Had  we  matches  ?  No.  Had  we  dry  sticks  ?  Yes, 
in  the  well,  perhaps.  Kahele  could  make  fire  with- 
out phosphorus,  and  we  could  keep  warm  till  morn- 
ing, and  then  escape  from  the  crater  as  early  as  pos- 
sible. After  much  groping  about,  in  and  out  of 
clouds,  we  found  the  dusty  well  and  dropped  into 
ii  Ferns — a  few  of  them — grew  about  its  sides  ; 


THE  HOUSE    OF  THE  SUN  21? 

a  dwarfed  tree,  rejoicing  in  four  angular  branches 
as  full  of  mossy  elbows  as  possible,  stood  in  the 
centre  of  our  retreat,  and  at  the  roots  of  this  miser- 
able recluse  the  Kanakas  contrived  to  grind  out  a 
flame  by  boring  into  a  bit  of  decayed  wood  with  a 
dry  stick  twirled  rapidly  between  their  palms.  Dead 
leaves,  dried  moss,  and  a  few  twigs  made  a  short- 
lived and  feeble  fire  for  us.  Darkness  had  come  up- 
on the  place.  We  watched  the  flaming  daggers  stab 
the  air  fitfully,  and  finally  sheathe  themselves  for 
good.  We  filled  our  shallow  cave  with  smoke  that 
drove  us  into  the  mouth  of  it,  from  time  to  time,  to 
keep  from  strangulation.  We  saw  our  wretched 
beasts  shaking  with  cold  ;  we  saw  the  swift,  belated 
clouds  hurrying  onward  in  ghostly  procession ;  we 
could  do  nothing  but  shudder  and  return  to  our 
dismal  bed.  No  cheerful  cricket  blew  his  shrill 
pipe,  like  a  policeman's  whistle  ;  the  sea  sang  not 
for  us  with  its  deep,  resounding  voice  ;  the  Hawaiian 
harp  was  hushed.  A  stone,  loosened  by  some  rest- 
less lizard,  rattled  down  the  cliff;  a  goat,  complain- 
ing of  the  cold,  bleated  once  or  twice.  The  wind 
soughed  ;  the  dry  branches  of  our  withering  tree 
sawed  across  each  other  ;  these  were  our  comforters 
during  that  almost  endless  night. 

Once  the  heavens  were  opened  to  us.  Through 
a  rent  in  the  clouds  we  saw  a  great  shoulder  of  the 
cliff  above  us,  bathed  in  moonlight.  A  thousand 
grotesque  shadows  played  over  the  face  of  it.  Pic- 
tures came  and  went — a  palimpsest  of  mysteries. 
Gargoyles  leered  at  us  from  under  the  threatening 


2l8  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

brows  of  the  bluff;  and  a  white  spectre,  shining 
like  a  star,  stood  on  the  uppermost  peak,  voiceless 
and  motionless — some  living  creature  lost  in  admira- 
tion of  the  moon.  Then  the  sky  fell  on  us,  and  we 
were  routed  to  our  solitary  cave. 

There  is  a  solitude  of  the  sea  that  swallows  up  hope  • 
the  despairing  spirit  hangs  over  a  threatening  abyss 
of  death  ;  yet  above  it  and  below  it  there  are  forms 
of  life  rejoicing  in  their  natural  element.  But  there 
is  a  solitude  of  the  earth  that  is  more  awful ;  in  it 
Death  taunts  you  with  his  presence,  yet  delays  to 
strike.  At  sea,  one  step,  and  the  spirit  is  set  at  lib- 
erty— the  body  is  entombed  forever.  But  alas ! 
within  the  deserts  of  the  earth  no  sepulchre  awaits 
the  ashes  of  him  who  has  suffered,  and  nought  but 
the  winds  or  the  foul-feeding  vultures  shall  cleanse 
that  bleaching  skeleton  where  it  lies. 

We  tried  to  sleep  on  our  stony  pillows.  Kahele 
woke  and  found  the  guide  and  me  dozing  ;  later, 
the  guide  roused  himself  to  the  discovery  that 
Kahele  and  I  were  wrapped  in  virtuous  unconscious- 
ness. Anon  I  sat  up  among  the  rocks,  listened  to 
the  two  natives  breathing  heavily,  and  heard  the 
wind  sighing  over  the  yawning  mouth  of  our  cavern. 
I  heard  the  beasts  stamping  among  the  clinkers,  and 
covered  my  head  again  with  the  damp  blanket,  and 
besieged  sleep.  Then  we  all  three  started  from  our 
unrefreshing  dreams,  and  lo!  the  clouds  were  rising 
and  fleeing  away,  and  a  faint  rosy  light  over  the 
summit-peaks  looked  like  sunrise  ;  so  we  rose  and 
saddled  the  caravan,  and  searched  about  us  for  the 


THE  HOUSE    OF  THE  SUN  2ig 

lost  trail.  Hour  after  hour  we  drew  nearer  to  the 
inouth  of  the  crater.  Our  progress  was  snail-like  ; 
each  one  of  us  struck  out  for  himself,  having  lost 
confidence  in  the  cunning  of  the  other.  From  small 
elevations  we  took  our  reckoning,  and  he  who  got 
the  farthest  toward  the  sea  lifted  up  his  voice  in 
triumph,  and  was  speedily  joined  by  the  rest  of 
the  party. 

At  last  we  came  upon  the  bluffs  that  overhang  the 
green  shores  of  the  island.  We  were  safely  out  of 
the  Sun's  Tabernacle,  but  not  yet  free  to  pass  into 
the  lowly  vales  of  the  earth.  Again  and  again  we 
rode  to  the  edges  of  the  cliffs,  whose  precipitous 
walls  forbade  our  descent.  Sometimes  we  clung  to 
the  bare  ribs  of  the  mountain,  where  a  single  misstep 
might  have  sent  us  headlong  into  the  hereafter. 
Frequently  we  rejoiced  in  a  discovery  that  promised 
well  ;  but  anon  a  sheltered  chasm  unveiled  its 
hideous  depths,  or  an  indigo-jungle  laid  hold  of  us 
and  cut  us  off  in  that  direction. 

Below  us  lay  the  verdant  slopes  of  Kaupo.  From 
their  dried-grass  houses  flocked  the  natives,  looking 
like  ants  and  their  hills.  They  watched  us  for  hours 
with  amused  interest.  Now  and  then  they  called  to 
us  with  faint  and  far-off  voices — suggestions  that 
were  lost  to  us,  since  they  sounded  like  so  many 
bird-notes  floating  in  the  wind.  All  day  we  saw  the 
little  village  lying  under  us  temptingly  peaceful  and 
lazy.  Clouds  still  hung  below  us  ;  some  of  them 
swept  by,  pouring  copious  drops,  that  drove  our 
audience  within  doors  for  a  few  moments  ;  but  the 


220  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

rain  was  soon  over,  the  sun  shone  brighter  than 
ever,  the  people  returned  to  watch  us,  and  the  day 
waned.  We  surprised  flock  upon  flock  of  goats  in 
their  rocky  retreats ;  but  they  dispersed  in  all  di- 
rections like  quicksilver,  and  we  passed  on.  About 
dusk  we  got  into  the  grassy  land,  and  thanked  God 
for  deliverance. 

Here  Kahele's  heart  rejoiced.  Here,  close  by  the 
little  chapel  of  Kanpo,  he  discovered  one  whom  he 
proclaimed  his  grandfather  ;  though,  judging  from 
the  years  of  the  man,  he  could  scarcely  have  been 
anything  beyond  an  uncle.  I  was  put  to  rest  in  a 
little  stone  cell,  where  the  priests  sleep  when  they 
are  on  their  mission  to  Kaupo.  A  narrow  bed,  with 
a  crucifix  at  the  foot  of  it,  a  small  window  in  the 
thick  wall,  with  a  jug  of  water  in  the  corner  thereof, 
and  a  chair  with  a  game-leg,  constituted  the  furnish- 
ment  of  the  quaint  lodging.  Kah6le  rushed  about 
to  see  old  friends — who  wept  over  him — and  was 
very  long  absent,  whereat  I  waxed  wroth,  and  be- 
rated him  roundly ;  but  the  poor  fellow  was  so 
charmingly  repentant  that  I  forgave  him  all,  and 
more  too,  for  I  promised  him  I  would  stay  three 
days,  at  least,  with  his  uncle-grandfather,  and  gave 
him  his  universal  liberty  for  the  time  being. 

From  the  open  doorway  I  saw  the  long  sweep  of 
the  mountains,  looking  cool  and  purple  in  the  twi- 
light. The  ghostly  procession  of  the  mists  stole  in 
at  the  windward  gap  ;  the  after-glow  of  the  evening 
suffused  the  front  of  the  chapel  with  a  warm  light, 
and  from  above  the  chapel-door  the  statue  of  the 


THE  HOUSE    OF  THE  SUN  221 

Virgin — a  little  faded  with  the  suns  of  that  end- 
less  summer,  a  little  mildewed  with  the  frequent 
rains — looked  down  upon  us  with  a  smile  of  wel- 
come. Some  youngsters,  as  naked  as  day-old  nest- 
birds,  tossed  a  ball  into  the  air  ;  and  when  it  at  last 
lodged  in  the  niche  of  the  Virgin,  they  clapped  their 
hands,  half  in  merriment  and  half  in  awe,  and  the 
games  of  the  evening  ended.  Then  the  full  moon 
rose  ;  a  cock  crew  in  the  peak  of  the  chapel,  think- 
ing it  daybreak,  and  the  little  fellows  slept,  with 
their  spines  curved  like  young  kittens.  By  and  by 
the  moon  hung,  round  and  mellow,  beyond  the 
chapel  cross,  and  threw  a  long  shadow  in  the  grass ; 
and  then  I  went  to  my  cell  and  folded  my  hands  to 
rest,  with  a  sense  of  blessed  and  unutterable  peace. 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS 


OH,  the  long  suffering  of  him  who  threads  a  nar- 
row trail  over  the  brown  crust  of  a  hill  where 
the  short  grass  lies  flat  in  tropical  sunshine  !  On 
one  side  sleeps  the  blue,  monotonous  sea  ;  on  the 
other,  crags  clothe  themselves  in  cool  mist  and  look 
dreamy  and  solemn. 

The  boy  Kahele,  who  has  no  ambition  beyond 
the  bit  of  his  foot- sore  mustang,  lags  behind,  taking 
all  the  dust  with  commendable  resignation. 

As  for  me,  I  am  wet  through  with  the  last 
shower  ;  I  steam  in  the  fierce  noonday  heat.  I  spur 
Hoke  the  mule  into  the  shadow  of  a  great  cloud  that 
drifts  lazily  overhead,  and  am  grateful  for  this  un- 
satisfying shade  as  long  as  it  lasts.  I  watch  the  sea, 
swinging  my  whip  by  its  threadbare  lash  like  a  pen- 
dulum— the  sea,  where  a  very  black  rock  is  being 
drowned  over  and  over  by  the  tremendous  swell 
that  covers  it  for  a  moment  ;  but  somehow  the  rock 
comes  to  the  surface  again,  and  seems  to  gasp  horri- 
bly in  a  deluge  of  breakers.  That  rock  has  been 
drowning  for  centuries,  yet  its  struggle  for  life  is  as 
real  as  ever. 

I  watch  the  mountains,  cleft  with  green,  fern- 
cushioned  chasms,  where  an  occasional  stream 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS    22$ 

silently  distills.  Far  up  on  a  sun-swept  ledge  a 
white,  scattering  drift,  looking  like  a  rose-garden 
after  a  high  wind,  I  know  to  be  a  flock  of  goats 
feeding.  But  the  wind-dried  and  sunburnt  grass 
under  foot,  the  intangible  dust  that  pervades  the 
air,  the  rain-cloud  in  the  distance,  trailing  its  ban- 
ners of  crape  in  the  sea  as  it  bears  down  upon  us — 
these  are  what  fret  me  a  little,  and  make  life  a  bur- 
den for  the  time  being  ;  so  I  spur  my  faithless  Hoke 
up  a  new  ascent  as  forbidding  as  any  that  we  have 
yet  come  upon,  and  slowly  and  with  many  pauses 
creep  to  the  summit. 

Kahele,  "  the  goer,"  belies  his  name,  for  he 
loiters  everywhere  and  always  ;  yet  I  am  not  sorry. 
I  have  the  first  glimpse  of  Wailua  all  to  myself.  I 
am  not  obliged  to  betray  my  emotion,  which  is  a 
bore  of  the  worst  sort. 

Wailua  lies  at  my  feet — a  valley  full  of  bees 
butterflies  and  blossoms,  the  sea  fawning  at  the 
mouth  of  it,  the  clouds  melting  over  it ;  waterfalls 
gushing  from  numerous  green  corners  ;  silver- white 
phaetons  floating  in  mid-air,  at  a  loss  to  choose  be- 
tween earth  and  heaven,  though  evidently  a  little  in- 
clined earthward,  for  they  no  sooner  drift  out  of 
the  bewildering  bowers  of  Wailua  than  they  return 
again  with  noticeable  haste. 

Down  I  plunge  into  the  depths  of  the  valley,  with 
the  first  drops  of  a  heavy  shower  pelting  me  in  the 
back ;  and  under  a  great  tree,  that  seems  yearning 
to  shelter  somebody,  I  pause  till  the  rain  is  over. 

Anon  the  slow-footed  Kahele  arrives,  leaking  all 


224  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

over,  and  bringing  a  peace-offering  of  ohias,  the  na* 
tive  apple,  as  juicy  and  sweet  as  the  forbidden  fruita 
of  Paradise.  As  for  these  apples,  they  have  a  solitary 
seed,  like  a  nutmeg,  a  pulp  as  white  as  wax,  a  juice 
flavored  with  roses,  and  their  skin  as  red  as  a  peony 
and  as  glossy  as  varnish.  These  we  munch  and 
munch  while  the  forest  reels  under  the  impetuous 
avalanches  of  big  rain-drops,  and  our  animals  tear 
great  tufts  of  sweet  grass  from  the  upper  roadside. 

Is  it  far  to  the  chapel,  I  wonder.  Kahele  thinks 
not — perhaps  a  pari  or  two  distant.  But  a  pari,  a 
cliff,  has  many  antecedents  ;  and  I  feel  that  some 
dozen  or  so  of  climbs,  each  more  or  less  fatiguing, 
still  separate  me  from  the  rest  I  am  seeking,  and 
hope  not  to  find  until  I  reach  the  abode  of  Pere  Fi- 
delis,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  as  one  might  say. 

The  rain  ceases.  Hoke  once  more  nerves  himself 
for  fresh  assaults  upon  the  everlasting  hills.  Ka- 
hele drops  behind  as  usual,  and  the  afternoon 
wanes. 

How  fresh  seems  the  memory  of  this  journey  1 
yet  its  place  is  with  the  archives  of  the  past.  I 
seem  to  breathe  the  incense  of  orange-flowers  and  to 
hear  the  whisper  of  distant  waterfalls  as  I  write. 

It  must  have  been  toward  sunset — we  were 
threading  the  eastern  coast,  and  a  great  mountain 
filled  the  west — but  I  felt  that  it  was  the  hour  when 
day  ends  and  night  begins.  The  heavy  clouds 
looked  as  though  they  were  still  brimful  of  sunlight, 
yet  no  ray  escaped  to  gladden  our  side  ol  the 
world. 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS     22$ 

Finally,  on  the  brow  of  what  seemed  to  be  the  last 
hill  in  this  life,  I  saw  a  cross — a  cross  among  the 
palms.  Hoke  saw  it,  and  quickened  his  pace :  he 
was  not  so  great  an  ass  but  he  knew  that  there  was 
provender  in  the  green  pastures  of  Pere  Fidelis, 
and  his  heart  freshened  within  him. 

A  few  paces  from  the  grove  of  palms  I  heard  a 
bell  swing  jubilantly.  Out  over  the  solemn  sea,  up 
and  down  that  foam-crested  shore,  rang  the  sweet 
Angelus.  One  may  pray  with  some  fervor  when 
one's  journey  is  at  an  end.  When  the  prayer  was 
over  I  walked  to  the  gate  of  the  chapel-yard,  leading 
the  willing  Hoke,  and  at  that  moment  a  slender  fig- 
ure, clad  all  in  black,  his  long  robes  flowing  grace- 
fully about  him,  his  boyish  face  heightening  the  ef- 
fect of  his  grave  and  serene  demeanor,  his  thin, 
sensitive  hands  held  forth  in  hearty  welcome — a  wel- 
come that  was  almost  like  a  benediction,  so  spiritual 
was  the  love  which  it  expressed — came  out,  and  I 
found  myself  in  the  arms  of  Pere  Fidelis,  feeling 
like  one  who  has  at  least  been  permitted  to  kneel 
upon  the  threshold  of  his  Mecca. 

Why  do  our  hearts  sing  jubilate  when  we  meet  a 
friend  for  the  first  time  ?  What  is  it  within  us  that 
with  its  life-long  yearning  comes  suddenly  upon  the 
all-sufiicient  one,  and  in  a  moment  is  crowned  and 
satisfied?  I  could  not  tell  whether  I  was  at  last 
waking  from  a  sleep  or  just  sinking  into  a  dream.  I 
could  have  sat  there  at  his  feet  contented  ;  I  could 
have  put  off  my  worldly  cares,  resigned  ambition, 
forgotten  the  past,  and,  in  the  blessed  tranquillity  of 
15 


226  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

that  hour,  have  dwelt  joyfully  under  the  palms  with 
him,  seeking  only  to  follow  in  his  patient  footsteps 
until  the  end  should  come. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  realization  of  an  ideal  that 
plunged  me  into  a  luxurious  re  very,  out  of  which  I 
was  summoned  by  mon  p&re,  who  hinted  that  I  must 
be  hungry.  Prophetic  father !  hungry  I  was  in- 
deed. 

Mon  p&re  led  me  to  his  little  house  with  three 
rooms,  and  installed  me  host,  himself  being  my 
ever-watchful  attendant.  Then  he  spoke  :  "  The 
lads  were  at  the  sea,  fishing  :  would  I  excuse  him 
for  a  moment?" 

Alone  in  the  little  house,  with  a  glass  of  claret  and 
a  hard  biscuit  for  refreshment,  I  looked  about  me. 
The  central  room,  in  which  I  sat,  was  bare  to  naked- 
ness :  a  few  devotional  books,  a  small  clock  high  up 
on  the  wall,  with  a  short  wagging  pendulum,  two  or 
three  paintings,  betraying  more  sentiment  than 
merit,  a  table,  a  wooden  form  against  the  window, 
and  a  crucifix,  complete  its  inventory.  A  high 
window  was  at  my  back  ;  a  door  in  front  opening 
upon  a  veranda  shaded  with  a  passion- vine  ;  beyond 
it  a  green,  undulating  country  running  down  into 
the  sea  ;  on  either  hand  a  little  cell  containing  noth- 
ing but  a  narrow  bed,  a  saint's  picture,  and  a  rosary. 
Kahele,  having  distributed  the  animals  in  good  pas- 
turage, lay  on  the  veranda  at  full  length,  supremely 
happy  as  he  jingled  his  spurs  over  the  edge  of  the 
steps  and  hummed  a  native  air  in  subdued  falsetto, 
like  a  mosquito. 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS     22f 

Again  I  sank  into  a  revery.  Enter  mon  pbre  with 
apologies  and  a  plate  of  smoking  cakes  made  of  eggs 
and  batter,  his  own  handiwork  ;  enter  the  lads  from 
the  sea  with  excellent  fish,  knotted  in  long  wisps  of 
grass  ;  enter  Kahele,  lazily  sniffing  the  savory  odors 
of  our  repast  with  evident  relish ;  and  then  supper 
in  good  earnest. 

How  happy  we  were,  having  such  talks  in  several 
sorts  of  tongues,  such  polyglot  efforts  toward  socia- 
bility— French,  English,  and  native  in  equal  parts, 
but  each  broken  and  spliced  to  suit  our  dire  neces- 
sity !  The  candle  flamed  and  flickered  in  the  land- 
breeze  that  swept  through  the  house — unctuous 
waxen  stalactites  decorated  it  almost  past  recog- 
nition ;  the  crickets  sang  lustily  at  the  doorway  ; 
the  little  natives  grew  sleepy  and  curled  up  on  their 
mats  in  the  corner  ;  Kahele  slept  in  his  spurs  like  a 
born  muleteer.  And  now  a  sudden  conviction  seized 
us  that  it  was  bedtime  in  very  truth ;  so  mon  pere 
led  me  to  one  of  the  cells,  saying  "  Will  you  sleep  in 
the  room  of  Pere  Amabilis  ? "  Yea,  verily,  with  all 
humility ;  and  there  I  slept  after  the  benediction, 
during  which  the  young  priest's  face  looked  almost 
like  an  angel's  in  its  youthful  holiness,  and  I  was 
afraid  I  might  wake  in  the  morning  and  find  him 
gone,  transported  to  some  other  and  more  lovely 
world. 

But  I  didn't.  Pere  Fidelis  was  up  before  day- 
break. It  was  his  hand  that  clashed  the  joyful  An- 
gelus  at  sunrise  that  woke  me  from  my  happy 
dream  ;  it  was  his  hand  that  prepared  the  frugal  but 


228  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

appetizing  meal;  he  made  the  coffee,  such  rich, 
black,  aromatic  coffee  as  Frenchmen  alone  have  the 
faculty  of  producing.  He  had  an  eye  to  the  welfare 
of  the  animals  also,  and  seemed  to  be  commander-in- 
chief  of  affairs  secular  as  well  as  ecclesiastical ;  yet 
he  was  so  young  ! 

There  was  a  day  of  brief  incursions  mountain  ward, 
with  the  happiest  results.  There  were  welcomes 
showered  upon  me  for  his  sake  ;  he  was  ever  minis- 
tering to  my  temporal  wants,  and  puzzling  me  with 
dissertations  in  assorted  languages. 

By  happy  fortune  a  Sunday  followed,  when  the 
Chapel  of  the  Palms  was  thronged  with  dusky  wor- 
shippers ;  not  a  white  face  present  but  the  father's 
and  mine  own,  yet  a  common  trust  in  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  life  to  come  struck  the  key-note  of  uni- 
versal harmony,  and  we  sang  the  Magnificat  with 
one  voice.  There  was  something  that  fretted  me  in 
all  this  admirable  experience  :  Pere  Fidelis  could 
touch  neither  bread  nor  water  until  after  the  last 
mass.  Hour  by  hour  he  grew  paler  and  fainter 
spite  of  the  heroic  fortitude  that  sustained  his  fam- 
ishing body. 

" Mon  pbre,"  said  I,  "you  must  eat,  or  go  to 
heaven  betimes.  "  He  would  not.  "  You  must  end 
with  an  earlier  mass,"  I  persisted.  It  was  impos- 
sible :  many  parishioners  came  from  miles  away  ; 
some  of  these  started  at  daybreak,  as  it  was,  and  they 
would  be  unable  to  arrive  in  season  for  an  earlier 
mass.  Excellent  martyr !  thought  I,  to  offer  thy 
body  a  living  sacrifice  for  the  edification  of  these 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS    22Q 

savage  Christians !  At  last  he  ate,  but  not  until 
appetite  itself  had  perished.  Then  troops  of  chil- 
dren gathered  about  him  clamoring  to  kiss  the  hand 
of  the  priestly  youth ;  old  men  and  women  passed 
him  with  heads  uncovered,  amazed  at  the  devotion 
of  one  they  could  not  hope  to  emulate. 

Whenever  I  referred  to  his  life,  he  at  once  led  me 
to  admire  his  fellow-apostle,  who  was  continually  in 
his  thoughts.  Pere  Amabilis  was  miles  away,  repair- 
ing a  chapel  that  had  suffered  somewhat  in  a  late  gale  ; 
Pere  Amabilis  would  be  so  glad  to  see  me  ;  I  must 
not  fail  to  visit  him  ;  and  for  fear  of  some  mischance, 
Pere  Fidelis  would  himself  conduct  me  to  him. 

The  way  was  hard — deep  chasms  to  penetrate, 
swift  streams  to  be  forded,  narrow  and  slippery 
trails  to  be  threaded  through  forest,  swamp,  and 
wilderness.  These  obstacles  separated  the  devoted 
friends,  but  not  for  long  seasons.  Pere  Fidelis 
would  go  to  him  whom  he  had  not  laid  eyes  on  for 
a  fortnight  at  least. 

The  boy  Kahele  was  glad  of  companionship  ;  one 
of  the  small  fishers,  an  acolyte  of  the  chapel,  would 
accompany  us,  and  together  they  could  lag  behind, 
eating  ohias  and  dabbling  in  every  stream. 

A  long  day's  journey  followed.  We  wended  our 
way  through  jungles  of  lauhala,  with  slim  roots  in 
the  air  and  long  branches  trailing  about  them  like 
vines ;  they  were  like  great  cages  of  roots  and 
branches  in  a  woven  snarl.  We  saw  a  rocky  point 
jutting  far  into  the  sea.  "Pere  Amabilis  dwells 
just  beyond  that  cape,  "  said  my  companion,  fondly  ; 


230  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

and  it  seemed  not  very  far  distant ;  but  our  pace 
was  slow  and  wearisome,  and  the  hours  were  sure  to 
distance  us.  We  fathomed  dark  ravines  whose 
farther  walls  were  but  a  stone's  throw  from  us,  but 
in  whose  profound  depths  a  swift  torrent  rushed 
madly  to  the  sea,  threatening  to  carry  us  to  our  de- 
struction— green,  precipitous  troughs,  where  the  tide 
of  mountain-rain  was  lashed  into  fury,  and  with  its 
death-song  drowned  our  voices  and  filled  our  ani- 
mals with  terror. 

Now  and  then  we  paused  to  breathe,  man  and 
beast  panting  with  fatigue ;  sometimes  the  rain 
drove  us  into  the  thick  wood  for  shelter ;  sometimes 
a  brief  deluge,  the  offspring  of  a  rent  cloud  at  the 
head  of  the  ravine,  stayed  our  progress  for  half  an 
hour,  until  its  volume  was  somewhat  spent  and 
the  stream  was  again  fordable.  Here  we  talked 
of  the  daily  miracles  in  nature.  Again  and  again 
the  young  fathers  are  called  forth  into  the  wilder- 
ness to  attend  on  the  sick  and  dying.  Little 
chapels  are  hidden  away  among  the  mountains  and 
through  the  valleys  ;  all  these  must  be  visited  in 
turn.  Their  life  is  an  actual  pilgrimage  from  chapel 
to  chapel,  which  nothing  but  physical  inability  may 
interrupt. 

At  one  spot  I  saw  a  tree  under  which  Pere  Fidelis 
once  passed  a  tempestuous  night.  On  either  side 
yawned  a  ravine  swept  by  an  impassable  flood. 
There  were  no  houses  within  reach.  On  the  soaked 
earth,  with  a  pitiless  gale  sweeping  over  the  land, 
from  sunset  to  sunrise  he  lay  without  the  consola- 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS     2$l 

tion  of  one  companion.  Food  was  frequently 
scarce  :  a  few  limpets,  about  as  palatable  as  parboiled 
shoe-leather,  a  paste  of  roast  yams  and  water,  a  lime 
perhaps,  and  nothing  besides  but  lumpy  salt  from 
the  sea-shore. 

While  we  were  riding,  a  herald  met  us  bearing  a 
letter  for  mon  pbre.  It  was  a  greeting  from  Pere 
Amabilis,  who  announced  the  chapel  as  rapidly  near- 
ing  its  complete  restoration.  Pere  Fidelis  fairly  wept 
for  joy  at  this  intelligence,  and  burst  into  a  panegyric 
upon  the  unrivalled  ingenuity  of  his  spiritual  asso- 
ciate. We  were  sure  to  surprise  him  at  work,  and 
this  trifling  episode  seemed  to  be  an  event  of  some 
importance  in  the  isolated  life  they  led. 

At  sunset  we  passed  into  the  open  vale  of  Wai- 
luanui,  and  saw  the  chapel  looking  fresh  and  tidy 
on  the  slope  of  the  hill  toward  the  sea.  Two  water- 
falls that  fell  against  the  sunset  flashed  like  falling 
flame,  and  a  soft  haze  tinged  the  slumberous  soli- 
tudes of  wood  and  pasture  with  the  dream-like  love- 
liness of  a  picture.  There  seemed  to  be  but  one 
sound  audible — the  quick,  sharp  blows  of  a  hammer. 
Pere  Fidelis  listened  with  eyes  sparkling,  and  then 
rode  rapidly  onward. 

Behold  !  from  the  chapel  wall,  high  up  on  a  scaf- 
folding of  boughs,  his  robes  gathered  about  him, 
his  head  uncovered,  and  hammer  in  hand,  Pere 
Amabilis  leaned  forth  to  welcome  us.  The  ham- 
mer fell  to  the  earth.  Pere  Amabilis  loosened  his 
skirts  and  clasped  his  hands  in  unaffected  rapture. 
We  were  three  satisfied  souls,  asking  for  nothing 


232  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

beyond  the  hem  of  that  lonely  valley  in  the  Pa- 
cific. 

Of  course  there  was  the  smallest  possible  house 
that  could  be  lived  in,  for  our  sole  accommodation, 
because  but  one  priest  needed  to  visit  the  district 
at  a  time,  and  a  very  young  priest  at  that.  A  tiny 
bed  in  one  corner  of  the  room  was  thought  suffi- 
cient, together  with  two  plates,  two  cups,  and  a  sin- 
gle spoon.  Luxuries  were  unknown  and  unre- 
gretted. 

"  Well,  father,  what  have  you  at  this  hotel  ?  "  said 
Pere  Fidelis  as  we  came  to  the  door  of  the  cubby 
house. 

"Water,"  replied  our  host,  with  a  grave  tone  that 
had  an  undercurrent  of  truth  in  it. 

But  we  were  better  provided  for.  Within  an 
hour's  time  a  reception  took  place  :  native  parish- 
ioners came  forth  to  welcome  Pere  Fidelis  and  the 
stranger,  each  bringing  some  voluntary  tribute — a 
fish,  a  fowl  lean  enough  to  quiet  the  conscience  of 
Pere  Fidelis,  an  egg  or  two,  or  a  bunch  of  taro. 

Long  talks  followed  ;  the  news  of  the  last  month 
was  discussed  with  much  enthusiasm,  and  some  few 
who  had  no  opportunity  of  joining  in  the  debate 
gave  expression  to  their  sentiments  through  such 
speaking  eyes  as  savages  usually  are  possessed  of. 

The  welcome  supper-hour  approached.  Willing 
hands  dressed  a  fowl ;  swift  feet  plied  between  the 
spring  and  the  kettle  swung  over  the  open  camp-fire  ; 
children  danced  for  very  joy  before  the  door  of  the 
chapel,  under  the  statue  of  the  Virgin,  whose  head 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS    233 

was  adorned  with  a  garland  of  living  flowers.  The 
shadows  deepened  ;  stars  seemed  to  cluster  over 
the  valley  and  glow  with  unusual  fervor  ;  the  crickets 
sang  mightily — they  are  always  singing  mightily 
over  yonder  ;  supper  came  to  the  bare  table  with  its 
meagre  array  of  dishes  ;  and,  since  I  was  forced  to 
have  a  whole  plate  and  a  bowl,  as  well  as  the  solitary 
spoon,  for  my  sole  use,  the  two  young  priests  ate 
together  from  the  same  dish  and  drank  from  the 
same  cup,  and  were  as  grateful  and  happy  as  the 
birds  of  the  air  under  similar  circumstances. 

A  merry  meal,  that !  For  us  no  weak  tea,  that 
satirical  consoler,  nor  tea  whose  strength  is  bitter- 
ness, an  abomination  to  the  faithful,  but  man  p&re's 
own  coffee,  the  very  aroma  of  which  was  invigorat- 
ing ;  and  then  our  friendly  pipes  out  under  the 
starlight,  where  we  sat  chatting  amicably,  with  our 
three  heads  turbaned  in  an  aromatic  Virginian  cloud. 

I  learned  something  of  the  life  of  these  two 
friends  during  that  social  evening.  Born  in  the 
same  city  in  the  north  of  France,  reared  in  the  same 
schools,  graduated  from  the  same  university,  each 
fond  of  life  and  acquainted  with  its  follies,  each  in 
turn  stricken  with  an  illness  that  threatened  death, 
together  they  came  out  of  the  dark  valley  with 
their  future  consecrated  to  the  work  that  now 
absorbs  them,  the  friendship  of  their  childhood  in- 
creasing with  their  years  and  sustaining  them  in  a 
remote  land,  where  their  vow  of  poverty  seems  al- 
most like  a  sarcasm,  since  circumstance  deprives 
them  of  all  luxuries. 


234  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

"  Do  you  never  long  for  home  ?  do  you  never  re- 
gret your  vow  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Never  !  "  they  answered  ;  and  I  believe  them. 
"  These  old  people  are  as  parents  to  us ;  these 
younger  ones  are  as  brothers  and  sisters ;  these 
children  we  love  as  dearly  as  though  they  were  our 
own.  What  more  can  we  ask  ?  " 

What  more,  indeed  ?  With  the  rain  beating  down 
upon  your  unsheltered  heads,  and  the  torrents  threat- 
ening to  ingulf  you  ;  faint  with  journeyings  ;  an  hun- 
gered often  ;  weak  with  fastings  ;  pallid  with  prayer 
— what  more  can  you  ask  in  the  same  line  ?  say.  I. 

Pere  Fidelis  coughed  a  little,  and  was  somewhat 
feverish.  I  could  see  that  his  life  was  not  elastic  : 
his  strength  was  even  then  failing  him. 

"  Pere  Amabilis  is  an  artisan  :  he  built  this  house, 
and  it  is  small  enough  ;  but  some  day  he  will  build 
a  house  for  me  but  six  feet  long  and  so  broad,"  said 
Pere  Fidelis,  shrugging  his  shoulders ;  whereat 
Pere  Amabilis,  who  looked  like  a  German  student 
with  his  long  hair  and  spectacles,  turned  aside  to 
wipe  the  moisture  from  the  lenses,  and  said  nothing, 
but  laid  his  hand  significantly  upon  the  shoulder  of 
his  friend,  as  if  imploring  silence.  Alas  for  him 
when  those  lips  are  silent  forever  ! 

I  wondered  if  they  had  no  recreation. 

"O  yes.  The  poor  pictures  at  the  Chapel  of  the 
Palms  are  ours,  but  we  have  not  studied  art.  And 
then  we  are  sometimes  summoned  to  the  farther 
side  of  the  island,  where  we  meet  new  faces.  It  is 
a  great  change." 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS     235 

For  a  year  before  the  arrival  of  Pere  Amabilis, 
who  was  not  sooner  able  to  follow  his  friend,  Pere 
Fidelis  was  accustomed  to  go  once  a  month  to  a 
confessional  many  miles  away.  That  his  absence 
might  be  as  brief  as  possible,  he  was  obliged  to 
travel  night  and  day.  Sometimes  he  would  reach 
the  house  of  his  confessor  at  midnight,  when  all  were 
sleeping  :  thereupon  would  follow  this  singular  col- 
loquy in  true  native  fashion.  A  rap  at  the  door  at 
midnight,  the  confessor  waking  from  his  sleep. 

Confessor.     "  Who's  there  ?  " 

Ptre  Fidelis.     "  It  is  I ! " 

Conf.     "  Who  is  I !  " 

PZre  F.     "  Fidelis  !  " 

Gonf.     "  Fidelis  who  ?  " 

Ptre  F.  "Fidelis  kahuna  pule!"  (Fidelis  the 
priest.) 

Gonf.  "  Aweh  !  "  (An  expression  of  the  greatest 
surprise.)  "Entre,  Fidelis  kahuna  pule." 

Then  he  would  rise,  and  the  communion  that  fol- 
lowed must  have  been  most  cheering  to  both,  for 
mon  p&re  even  now  is  merry  when  he  recalls  it 

These  pilgrimages  are  at  an  end,  for  the  two 
priests  confess  to  one  another  :  conceive  of  the  fel- 
lowship that  hides  away  no  secret,  however  mortify- 
ing! 

The  whole  population  must  have  been  long  asleep 
before  we  thought  of  retiring  that  night,  and  then 
arose  an  argument  concerning  the  fittest  occupant 
of  the  solitary  bed.  It  fell  to  me,  for  both  were 
against  me,  and  each  was  my  superior.  When  I 


SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

protested,  they  held  up  their  fingers  and  said, 
"  Remember,  we  are  your  fathers  and  must  be 
obeyed."  Thus  I  was  driven  to  the  bed,  while  mine 
hosts  lay  on  the  bare  floor  with  saddles  for  pillows. 

It  was  this  self-sacrificing  hospitality  that  has- 
tened my  departure.  I  felt  earth  could  offer  me  no 
nobler  fellowship — that  all  acts  to  come,  however 
gracious,  would  bear  a  tinge  of  selfishness  in  com- 
parison with  the  reception  I  had  met  where  least  ex- 
pected. 

I  am  thankful  that  I  had  not  the  heart  to  sleep 
well,  for  I  think  I  could  never  have  forgiven  myself 
had  I  done  so.  When  I  woke  in  the  early  part  of 
the  night,  I  saw  the  young  priests  bowed  over  their 
breviaries,  for  I  had  delayed  the  accustomed  offices 
of  devotion,  and  they  were  fulfilling  them  in  peace  at 
last,  having  me  so  well  bestowed  that  it  was  utterly 
impossible  to  do  aught  else  for  my  entertainment. 

Once  more  the  morning  came.  I  woke  to  find 
Pore  Amabilis  at  work,  hammer  in  hand,  sending  his 
nails  home  with  accurate  strokes  that  spoke  well  for 
his  trained  muscle.  Pere  Fidelis  was  concocting 
coffee  and  directing  the  volunteer  cooks,  who  were 
seeking  to  surpass  themselves  upon  this  last  meal 
we  were  to  take  together.  In  an  hour  mon  p£re  was 
to  start  for  the  Chapel  of  the  Palms,  while  I  wended 
my  way  onward  through  a  new  country,  bearing 
with  me  the  consoling  memory  of  my  precious 
friends.  I  can  forgive  a  slight  and  forget  the  per- 
son who  slights  me,  but  little  kindnesses  probe  me 
to  the  quick.  I  wonder  why  the  twin  fathers  were 


THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE  PALMS    237 

so  very  careful  of  me  that  morning !  They  could 
not  do  enough  to  satisfy  themselves,  and  that 
made  me  miserable ;  they  stabbed  me  with  tender 
words,  and  tried  to  be  cheerful  with  such  evident 
effort  that  I  couldn't  eat  half  my  breakfast,  though, 
as  it  was,  I  ate  more  than  they  did — God  forgive 
me  ! — and  altogether  it  was  a  solemn  and  a  memo- 
rable meal. 

A  group  of  natives  gathered  about  us  seated  upon 
the  floor  ;  it  was  impossible  for  Pere  Fidelis  to 
move  without  being  stroked  by  the  affectionate 
creatures  who  deplored  his  departure.  Pere  Ama- 
bilis  insisted  upon  adjusting  our  saddles,  during 
which  ceremony  he  slyly  hid  a  morsel  of  cold  fowl 
in  our  saddle-bags. 

That  parting  was  as  cruel  as  death.  We  shall 
probably  never  see  one  another  again  ;  if  we  do,  we 
shall  be  older  and  more  practical  and  more  worldly, 
and  the  exquisite  confidence  we  have  in  one  another 
will  have  grown  blunt  with  time.  I  felt  it  then  as  I 
know  it  now— our  brief  idyl  can  never  be  lived  over 
in  this  life. 

Well,  we  departed ;  the  corners  of  our  blessed 
triangle  were  spread  frightfully.  Pere  Fidelis  was 
paler  than  ever  ;  he  caught  his  breath  as  though 
there  wasn't  much  of  it,  and  the  little  there  was 
wouldn't  last  long  ;  Pere  Amabilis  wiped  his  specta- 
cles and  looked  utterly  forsaken  ;  the  natives  stood 
about  in  awkward,  silent  groups,  coming  forward, 
one  by  one,  to  shake  hands,  and  then  falling  back 
like  so  many  automatons.  Somehow,  genuine  grief 


238  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

is  never  graceful ;  it  forgets  to  pose  itself  ;  its  mus- 
cles are  perfectly  slack  and  unreliable. 

The  sea  looked  gray  and  forbidding  as  it  shook 
its  shaggy  breakers  under  the  cliff ;  life  was  dismal 
enough.  The  animals  were  unusually  wayward,  and 
once  or  twice  I  paused  in  despair  under  the  prickly 
sunshine,  half  inclined  to  go  back  and  begin  over 
again,  hoping  to  renew  the  past ;  but  just  then 
Hoke*  felt  like  staggering  onward,  and  I  began  to 
realize  that  there  are  some  brief,  perfect  experi- 
ences in  life  that  pass  from  us  like  a  dream,  and  this 
was  one  of  them. 

In  the  proem  to  this  idyl  I  seem  to  see  two  shad- 
owy figures  passing  up  and  down  over  a  lonesome 
land.  Fever  and  famine  do  not  stay  them  ;  the  ele- 
ments alone  have  power  to  check  their  pilgrimage. 
Their  advent  is  hailed  with  joyful  bells ;  tears  fall 
when  they  depart.  Their  paths  are  peace.  Fear- 
lessly they  battle  with  contagion,  and  are  at  hand  to 
close  the  pestilential  lips  of  unclean  death.  They 
have  lifted  my  soul  above  things  earthly,  and  held  it 
secure  for  a  moment.  From  beyond  the  waters  my 
heart  returns  to  them.  Again  at  twilight,  over  the 
still  sea,  floats  the  sweet  Angelus  ;  again  I  approach 
the  chapel  falling  to  slow  decay  ;  there  are  fresh 
mounds  in  the  churchyard,  and  the  voice  of  wailing 
is  heard  for  a  passing  soul.  By  and  by,  if  there  is 
work  to  do,  it  shall  be  done,  and  the  hands  shall  be 
folded,  for  the  young  apostles  will  have  followed  in 
the  silent  footsteps  of  their  flock.  Here  endeth  the 
lesson  of  the  Chapel  of  the  Palms. 


KAH£LE 


FEOM  a  bluff,  whose  bald  forehead  jutted  a 
thousand  feet  into  the  air,  and  under  whose 
chin  the  sea  shrugged  its  great  shoulders,  Kahele, 
my  boy — that  delightful  contradiction,  who  was 
always  plausible,  yet  never  right — Kahele  and  I 
looked  timidly  over  into  the  sunset  valley  of  Meha. 
The  "  Valley  of  Solitude  "  it  was  called  ;  albeit,  at 
that  moment,  and  with  half  an  eye,  we  counted  the 
thirty  grass-lodges  of  the  village,  and  heard  the 
liquid  tongues  of  a  trio  of  waterfalls  that  dived 
head-first  into  the  groves  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
valley,  where  the  mountains  seemed  to  have  opened 
its  heart  wide  enough  to  let  a  rivulet  escape  into  the 
sea.  But  the  spot  was  a  palpable  and  living  dream, 
and  no  fond  rivulet  would  go  too  hastily  through  it ; 
so  there  was  a  glittering  sort  of  monogram  writ  in 
water,  and  about  it  the  village  lodges  were  clustered 
in  a  very  pleasing  disorder. 

The  trail  dropped  down  the  cliff  below  us  in  long, 
swinging  zigzags,  and  wound  lazily  through  the 
village  ;  crossed  the  stream  at  the  ford  ;  dipped  off 
toward  the  sea,  as  though  the  beach,  shining  like 
coarse  gold,  were  a  trifle  too  lovely  to  be  passed 
without  recognition,  and  then  it  climbed  laboriously 


24O  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

up  the  opposite  cliff,  and  struck  off  into  space,  In 
ten  seconds  a  bird  might  have  spanned  the  deep 
ravine,  and  caught  as  much  of  its  loveliness  as  we  ; 
but  we  weren't  birds,  and,  moreover,  we  had  six 
legs  apiece  to  look  after,  so  we  tipped  off  from  the 
dizzy  ridge  that  overhung  the  valley  of  Meha  to  the 
north,  and  gradually  descended  into  the  heat  and 
silence  of  the  place,  that  seemed  to  make  a  picture 
of  itself  when  we  first  looked  down  upon  it  from  our 
eyry. 

We  found  the  floor  of  the  valley  very  solemn  and 
very  lovely,  when  we  at  last  got  down  into  it.  Three 
youngsters,  as  brown  as  berries,  and  without  any 
leaves  upon  them,  broke  loose  from  a  banana-orchard 
and  leaped  into  a  low  hou-tree  as  we  approached. 
They  were  a  little  shy  of  my  color,  pale-faces  being 
rare  in  that  vicinity.  Two  women  who  were  wash- 
ing at  the  ford — and  washing  the  very  garments 
they  should  have  had  upon  their  backs — discovered 
us,  and  plunged  into  the  stream  with  a  refreshing 
splash,  and  a  laugh  apiece  that  was  worth  hearing, 
it  was  so  genuine  and  hearty.  Another  youngster 
hurried  off  from  a  stone-wall  like  a  startled  lizard, 
and  struck  on  his  head,  but  didn't  cry  much,  for  he 
was  too  frightened.  A  large  woman  lay  at  full 
length  on  a  broad  mat,  spread  under  a  pandanus, 
and  slept  like  a  turtle.  I  began  to  think  there  were 
nothing  but  women  and  children  in  the  solitary 
valley,  but  Kahele  had  kept  an  eye  on  the  reef,  and, 
with  an  air  of  superior  intelligence,  he  assured  me 
that  there  were  many  men  living  about  there,  and 


KAHELE  241 

they,  with  most  of  the  women  and  children,  were 
then  out  in  the  surf,  fishing. 

"  To  the  beach,  by  all  means !  "  cried  I ;  and  to 
the  beach  we  hastened,  where,  indeed,  we  found 
heaps  of  cast-off  raiment,  and  a  hundred  footprints 
in  the  sand.  What  would  Mr.  Kobinson  Crusoe 
have  said  to  that,  I  wonder !  Across  the  level  water, 
heads,  hands,  and  shoulders,  and  sometimes  half- 
bodies,  were  floating  about,  like  the  amphibia.  We 
were  at  once  greeted  with  a  shout  of  welcome, 
which  came  faintly  to  us  above  the  roar  of  the  surf, 
as  it  broke  heavily  on  the  reef,  a  half-mile  out  from 
shore.  It  was  drawing  toward  the  hour  when  the 
fishers  came  to  land,  and  we  had  not  long  to  wait 
before,  one  after  another,  they  came  out  of  the  sea 
like  so  many  mermen  and  mermaids.  They  were 
refreshingly  innocent  of  etiquette — at  least,  of  our 
translation  of  it ;  and,  with  a  freedom  that  was 
amusing  as  well  as  a  little  embarrassing,  I  was 
deliberately  fingered,  fondled,  and  fussed  with  by 
nearly  every  dusky  soul  in  turn.  "  At  last,"  thought 
I,  "fate  has  led  me  beyond  the  pale  of  civilization; 
for  this  begins  to  look  like  the  genuine  article." 

With  uncommon  slowness,  the  mermaids  donned 
more  or  less  of  their  apparel,  a  few  preferring  to 
carry  their  robes  over  their  arms  ;  for  the  air  was 
delicious,  and  ropes  of  sea-weed  are  accounted  full 
dress  in  that  delectable  latitude.  Down  on  the  sand 
the  mermen  heaped  their  scaly  spoils — fish  of  all 
shapes  and  sizes,  fish  of  every  color  ;  some  of  them 
throwing  somersaults  in  the  sand,  like  young  ath- 
16 


242  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

letes  ;  some  of  them  making  wry  faces,  in  their  last 
agony  ;  some  of  them  lying  still  and  clammy,  with 
big,  round  eyes  like  smoked-pearl  vest-buttons  set 
in  the  middle  of  their  cheeks  ;  all  of  them  smelling 
fish-like,  and  none  of  them  looking  very  tempting. 
Small  boys  laid  hold  on  small  fry,  bit  their  heads 
off,  and  held  the  silver-coated  morsels  between  their 
teeth,  like  animated  sticks  of  candy.  There  was  a 
Fridayish  and  Lent-like  atmosphere  hovering  over 
the  spot,  and  I  turned  away  to  watch  some  youths 
who  were  riding  surf-boards  not  far  distant — agile, 
narrow-hipped  youths,  with  tremendous  biceps  and 
proud,  impudent  heads  set  on  broad  shoulders,  like 
young  gods.  These  were  the  flower  and  chivalry  of 
the  Meha  blood,  and  they  swam  like  young  por- 
poises, every  one  of  them. 

There  was  a  break  in  the  reef  before  us  ;  the  sea 
knew  it,  and  seemed  to  take  special  delight  in  rush- 
ing upon  the  shore  as  though  it  were  about  to  de- 
vour sand,  savages,  and  everything.  Kahele  and  I 
watched  the  surf-swimmers  for  some  time,  charmed 
with  the  spectacle.  Such  buoyancy  of  material 
matter  I  had  never  dreamed  of.  Kah61e,  though 
much  in  the  flesh,  could  not  long  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  exhibit  his  prowess,  and  having  been  offered 
a  surf-board  that  would  have  made  a  good  lid  to  his 
coffin,  and  was  itself  as  light  as  cork  and  as  smooth 
as  glass,  suddenly  threw  off  his  last  claim  to  respect- 
ability, seized  his  sea-sled,  and  dived  with  it  under 
the  first  roller  which  was  then  about  to  break  above 
hii  head,  not  three  feet  from  him.  Beyond  it,  a 


KAHELE  243 

second  roller  reared  its  awful  front,  but  he  swain 
under  that  with  ease ;  at  the  sound  of  his  "  open 
sesame,"  its  emerald  gates  parted  and  closed  after 
him.  He  seemed  some  triton  playing  with  the  ele- 
ments, and  dreadfully  "at  home"  in  that  very 
wet  place.  The  third  and  mightiest  of  the  waves 
was  gathering  its  strength  for  a  charge  upon  the 
shore.  Having  reached  its  outer  ripple,  again  Ka- 
hele  dived  and  reappeared  on  the  other  side  of  the 
watery  hill,  balanced  for  a  moment  in  the  glassy 
hollow,  turned  suddenly,  and,  mounting  the  tower- 
ing monster,  he  lay  at  full  length  upon  his  fragile 
raft,  using  his  arms  as  a  bird  its  pinions — in  fact, 
soaring  for  a  moment  with  the  wave  under  him.  As 
it  rose,  he  climbed  to  the  top  of  it,  and  there,  in  the 
midst  of  foam  seething  like  champagne,  on  the 
crest  of  a  rushing  sea-avalanche  about  to  crumble 
and  dissolve  beneath  him,  his  surf-board  hidden  in 
spume,  on  the  very  top  bubble  of  all,  Kahele  danced 
like  a  shadow.  He  leaped  to  his  feet  and  swam  in 
the  air,  another  Mercury,  tiptoeing  a  heaven-kissing 
hill,  buoyant  as  vapor,  and  with  a  suggestion  of  in- 
visible wings  about  him — Kahele  transformed  for  a 
moment,  and  for  a  moment  only  ;  the  next  second 
my  daring  sea-skater  leaped  ashore,  with  a  howling 
breaker  swashing  at  his  heels.  It  was  something 
glorious  and  almost  incredible  ;  but  I  saw  it  with 
my  own  eyes,  and  I  wanted  to  double  his  salary  on 
the  spot. 

Sunset   in  the  valley  of  Meha.     The  air  full  of 
floating  particles,  that  twinkled  like  diamond-dust  ; 


244  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

the  great  green  chasm  at  the  head  of  the  valley 
illuminated  by  one  broad  bar  of  light  shot  obliquely 
through  it,  tipped  at  the  end  with  a  shower  of  white 
rockets  that  fringed  a  waterfall,  and  a  fragment  of 
rainbow  like  a  torn  banner.  That  deep,  shadowy 
ravine  seemed,  for  a  moment,  some  mystery  about 
to  be  divulged ;  but  the  light  faded  too  soon,  and 
I  never  learned  the  truth  of  it.  The  sea  quieter 
than  usual ;  very  little  sound  save  the  rhythmi- 
cal vibration  of  the  air,  that  suggested  flowing 
waters  and  quivering  leaves  ;  the  lights  shifted 
along  the  upper  cliffs;  a  silver -white  tropic -bird 
sailed  from  cloud  to  cloud,  swiftly  and  noiselessly, 
like  a  shooting-star.  A  delicious  moment,  but  a 
brief  one  ;  soon  the  sun  was  down,  and  the  deepen- 
ing shadows  and  gathering  coolness  set  all  the  val- 
ley astir. 

Camp-fires  were  kindled  throughout  the  village ; 
column  after  column  of  thin  blue  smoke  ascended 
in  waving  spirals,  separating  at  the  top  in  leaf- 
shaped  clouds.  It  was  like  the  spiritual  resurrection 
of  some  ancient  palm-grove  ;  and  when  the  moon 
rose,  a  little  later,  flooding  the  Vale  of  Solitude  with 
her  vague  light,  the  illusion  was  perfected  ;  and  a 
group  of  savages,  scenting  the  savory  process  of 
their  supper,  sat,  hungry  and  talkative,  under  every 
ghostly  palm.  Clear  voices  ascended  in  monoto- 
nous and  weird  recitative  ;  they  chanted  a  monody 
on  the  death  of  some  loved  one,  prompted,  perhaps, 
by  the  funereal  solemnity  of  the  hour  ;  or  sang  an 
ode  to  the  moon-rise,  the  still-flowing  river,  or  the 


KAHELE  245 

valley  of  Me"ha,  so  solitary  in  one  sense,  though  by 
no  means  alone  in  its  loneliness. 

Kahele  patronized  me  extensively.  I  was  intro- 
duced to  camp  after  camp,  and  in  rapid  succession 
repeated  the  experiences  of  a  traveller  who  has  much 
to  answer  for  in  the  way  of  color,  and  the  peculiar 
cut  of  his  garments.  I  felt  as  though  I  were  some 
natural  curiosity,  in  charge  of  the  robustious  Kahele, 
who  waxed  more  and  more  officious  every  hour  of 
his  engagement ;  and  his  tongue  ran  riot  as  he 
descanted  upon  my  characteristics,  to  the  joy  of  the 
curious  audiences  we  attracted. 

Some  hours  must  have  passed  before  we  thought 
of  sleep.  How  could  we  think  of  it,  when  every  soul 
was  wide  awake,  and  the  time  alone  seemed  to  pass 
us  by  unconsciously  ?  But  Kahele  finally  led  me  to 
a  chief's  house,  where,  under  coverlets  of  kapa, 
spiced  with  herbs,  and  in  the  midst  of  numerous 
members  of  the  household,  I  was  advised  to  compose 
my  soul  in  peace,  and  patiently  await  daylight.  I 
did  so,  for  the  drowsy  sense  that  best  illustrates  the 
tail-end  of  a  day's  journey  possessed  me,  and  I  was 
finally  overcome  by  the  low,  monotonous  drone  of  a 
language  that  I  found  about  as  intelligible  as  the 
cooing  of  the  multitudinous  pigeon.  The  boy  sat 
near  me,  still  descanting  upon  our  late  experiences, 
our  possible  future,  and  the  thousand  trivial  occur- 
rences that  make  the  recollections  of  travel  forever 
charming.  The  familiar  pipe,  smoked  at  about  the 
rate  of  three  whiffs  apiece,  circulated  freely,  and 
kept  the  air  mildly  flavored  with  tobacco  j  and 


246  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

night,  with  all  that  pertains  to  it,  bowed  over  me  as, 
in  an  unguarded  moment,  I  surrendered  to  its  nar- 
cotizing touch. 

There  was  another  valley  in  my  sleep,  like  unto 
the  one  I  had  closed  my  eyes  upon,  and  I  saw  it 
thronged  with  ancients.  No  white  face  had  yet 
filled  those  savage  and  sensuous  hearts  with  a  sense 
of  disgust  which,  I  believe,  all  dark  races  feel  when 
they  first  behold  a  bleached  skin.  Again  the 
breathless  heralds  announced  the  approach  of  a 
king,  and  the  multitudes  gathered  to  receive  him. 
I  heard  the  beating  of  the  tom-toms,  and  saw  the 
dancers  ambling  and  posing  before  his  august  maj- 
esty, who  reclined  in  the  midst  of  a  retinue  of  obse- 
quious retainers.  The  spearsmen  hurled  their  spears, 
and  the  strong  men  swung  their  clubs ;  the  stone- 
throwers  threw  skilfully,  and  the  sweetest  singers 
sang  long  meles  in  praise  of  their  royal  guest.  A 
cry  of  fear  rent  the  air  as  a  stricken  one  fled  toward 
the  city  of  refuge ;  the  priests  passed  by  me  in 
solemn  procession,  their  robes  spotted  with  sacri- 
ficial blood.  War  canoes  drew  in  from  the  sea,  and 
death  fell  upon  the  valley.  I  heard  the  wail  for  the 
slaughtered,  and  saw  the  grim  idols  borne  forth  in 
the  arms  of  the  triumphant ;  then  I  awoke  in  the 
midst  of  that  dream-pageant  of  savage  and  barbaric 
splendor. 

It  was  still  night ;  the  sea  was  again  moaning  ; 
the  cool  air  of  the  mountain  rustled  in  the  long 
thatch  at  the  doorway  ;  a  ripe  bread-fruit  fell  to  the 
earth  with  a  low  thud.  I  rose  from  my  mat  and 


KAHELE  247 

looked  about  me.  The  room  was  nearly  deserted  ; 
someone  lay  swathed  like  a  mummy  in  a  dark 
corner  of  the  lodge,  but  of  what  sex  I  knew  not — 
probably  one  who  had  outlived  all  sensations,  and 
perhaps  all  desires ;  a  rush,  strung  full  of  oily 
kukui  nuts,  flamed  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  a 
thread  of  black  smoke  climbed  almost  to  the  peak 
of  the  roof  ;  but,  falling  in  with  a  current  of  fresh  air, 
it  was  spirited  away  in  a  moment. 

I  looked  out  of  the  low  door  :  the  hour  was  such 
a  one  as  tinges  the  stoutest  heart  with  superstition  ; 
the  landscape  was  complete  in  two  colors — a  moist, 
transparent  gray,  and  a  thin,  feathery  silver  that 
seemed  almost  palpable  to  the  touch.  Out  on  the 
slopes  near  the  stream  reclined  groups  of  natives, 
chatting,  singing,  smoking,  or  silently  regarding  the 
moon.  I  passed  them  unnoticed  ;  dim  paths  led  me 
through  guava  jungles,  under  orange-groves,  and 
beside  clusters  of  jasmine,  overpowering  in  their 
fragrance.  Against  the  low  eaves  of  the  several 
lodges  sat  singers,  players  upon  the  rude  instru- 
ments of  the  land,  and  giib  talkers,  who  waxed  elo- 
quent, and  gesticulated  with  exceeding  grace.  Foot- 
steps rustled  before  and  behind  me  ;  I  stole  into  the 
thicket,  and  saw  lovers  wandering  together,  locked 
in  each  other's  embrace,  and  saw  friends  go  hand-in- 
hand,  conversing  in  low  tones,  or  perhaps  mute,  with 
an  impressive  air  of  the  most  complete  tranquillity. 
The  night-blooming  cereus  laid  its  ivory  urn  open 
to  the  moonlight,  and  a  myriad  of  crickets  chirped 
in  one  continuous  jubilee.  Voices  of  merriment 


248  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

were  wafted  down  to  me ;  and,  stealing  onward, 
toward  the  great  meadow  by  the  stream,  where  the 
sleepless  inhabitants  of  the  valley  held  high  carnival, 
I  saw  the  most  dignified  chiefs  of  Meha  sporting 
like  children,  while  the  children  capered  like  imps, 
and  the  whole  community  seemed  bewitched  with 
the  glorious  atmosphere  of  that  particular  night. 

Who  was  the  gayest  of  the  gay,  and  the  most 
lawless  of  the  unlawful  ?  My  boy,  Kahele,  in  whom 
I  had  placed  my  trust,  and  whom,  until  this  hour  at 
least,  I  had  regarded  as  a  most  promising  specimen 
of  the  reorganized  barbarians. 

Perhaps  it  was  all  right ;  perhaps  I  had  been 
counting  his  steps  with  too  much  confidence  ;  they 
might  have  been  simply  a  creditable  performance, 
the  result  of  careful  training  on  the  part  of  his  tu- 
tors. I  am  inclined  to  think  they  were!  At  any 
rate,  Kahele  went  clean  back  to  barbarism  that 
night,  and  seemed  to  take  to  it  amazingly.  I  said 
nothing  ;  I  thought  it  wiser  to  seem  to  hold  the 
reins,  though  I  held  them  loosely,  than  to  try  to 
check  the  career  of  my  half-tamed  domestic,  and  to 
find  him  beyond  my  control ;  therefore  I  sat  on  one 
side  taking  notes,  and  found  it  rather  jolly  on  the 
whole. 

The  river  looked  like  an  inky  flood  with  a  broken 
silver  crust ;  canoes  floated  upon  its  sluggish  tide 
like  long  feathers  ;  swimmers  plied  up  and  down  it, 
now  and  then  "  blowing,"  whale-fashion,  but  slipping 
through  the  water  as  noiselessly  as  trout.  I  could 
scarcely  tell  which  was  the  more  attractive — Nature, 


KAHELE  249 

so  fragrant  and  so  voluptuous,  or  man,  who  had  be- 
come a  part  of  Nature  for  the  hour,  and  was  very 
unlike  man  as  I  had  been  taught  to  accept  him. 

Not  till  dawn  did  the  dance  or  the  song  cease  ; 
not  till  everybody  was  gray  and  fagged,  and  tongues 
had  stopped  wagging  from  sheer  exhaustion.  I  re- 
turned to  my  mats  long  ere  that,  to  revolve  in  my 
mind  plans  for  the  following  day. 

It  was  evident  that  Kahele  must  at  once  quit  the 
place,  or  go  back  to  barbarism  and  stick  there.  I 
didn't  care  to  take  the  responsibility  of  his  return  to 
first  principles,  and  so  ordered  the  animals  saddled 
by  sunrise.  At  that  delicious  moment,  the  youngster 
lay  like  one  of  the  Seven  Sleepers,  whom  nothing 
could  awaken.  Everybody  in  the  village  seemed  to 
be  making  up  his  lost  sleep,  and  I  was  forced  to 
await  the  return  of  life  before  pressing  my  claims 
any  further. 

The  scorching  noon  drew  on  ;  a  few  of  the  sleepers 
awoke,  bathed,  ate  of  their  cold  repast,  and  slept 
again.  Kahele  followed  suit ;  in  the  midst  of  his  re- 
freshment, I  suggested  the  advisability  of  instant  de- 
parture ;  he  hesitated.  I  enlarged  upon  the  topic, 
and  drew  an  enticing  picture  of  the  home-stretch, 
with  all  the  endearing  associations  clustering  about 
its  farther  end  ;  he  agreed  to  everything  with  a 
sweet  and  passive  grace  that  seemed  to  compensate 
me  for  the  vexations  of  the  morning. 

I  went  to  the  river  to  bathe  while  the  beasts  were 
being  saddled,  and  returned  anon  to  find  Kahele 
sound  asleep,  and  as  persistent  in  his  slumbers  as 


250  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

ever.  The  afternoon  waned  ;  I  began  to  see  the  fit- 
ness of  the  name  that  had  at  first  seemed  to  me  in- 
appropriate to  the  valley  :  everybody  slept  or  lazed 
during  the  hot  hours  of  the  day,  and  a  census-taker 
might  easily  have  imagined  the  place  a  solitude.  At 
sunset  there  was  more  fishing  and  more  surf-swim- 
ming. It  seemed  to  me  the  fish  smelt  stronger,  and 
the  swimmers  swam  less  skilfully  than  on  the  even- 
ing previous  ;  possibly  it  was  quite  as  pretty  a  spec- 
tacle as  the  one  that  first  charmed  me,  but  blessings 
are  bores  when  they  come  out  of  season. 

Night  drew  on  apace  ;  the  moon  rose,  and  the  in- 
habitants pretended  to  rest,  but  were  shortly  mag- 
netized out  of  their  houses,  where  they  danced  till 
daybreak.  The  sweets  of  that  sort  of  thing  began 
to  cloy,  and  I  resolved  upon  immediate  action.  Ka- 
hele  was  taken  by  the  ears  at  the  very  next  sunrise, 
and  ordered  to  get  up  the  mules  at  once.  He  was 
gone  nearly  all  day,  and  came  in  at  last  with  a  piti- 
ful air  of  disappointment  that  quite  unmanned  me  ; 
his  voice,  too,  was  sympathetic,  and  there  was  some- 
thing like  a  tear  in  his  eye  when  he  assured  me  that 
the  creatures  had  gone  astray,  but  might  be  found 
shortly — perhaps  even  then  they  were  approaching  ; 
and  the  young  scamp  rose  to  reconnoitre,  glad,  no 
doubt,  of  an  excuse  for  escaping  from  my  natural 
but  ludicrous  discomfiture.  It  is  likely  that  my  boy 
Kahele  would  have  danced  till  doomsday,  had  I  not 
shown  spleen.  It  is  as  likely,  also,  that  the  chief 
and  all  his  people  would  have  helped  him  out  in  it, 
had  I  not  offered  such  reward  as  I  thought  sufficient 


KAHELE  251 

to  tempt  their  greed  ;  but,  thank  Heaven,  there  is  an 
end  to  everything ! 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  two  travellers 
might  have  been  seen  struggling  up  the  face  of  the 
great  cliff  that  walls  in  the  valley  of  Meha  to  the 
south.  The  one  a  pale-face,  paler  than  usual,  urging 
on  the  other,  a  dark-face,  darker  than  was  its  wont. 
Never  did  animals  so  puzzle  their  wits  to  know 
whether  they  were  indeed  desired  to  hasten  forward, 
or  to  turn  back  at  the  very  next  crook  in  the  trail. 
We  were  at  big  odds,  Kahele  and  I ;  for  another 
idol  of  mine  had  suddenly  turned  to  clay,  and, 
though  I  am  used  to  that  sort  of  thing,  I  am  never 
able  to  bear  it  with  decent  composure.  On  we 
journeyed,  working  at  cross-purposes,  and  getting 
nearer  to  the  sky  all  the  while,  and  finally  losing 
sight  of  the  bewitching  valley  that  had  demoralized 
and  so  nearly  divorced  us  ;  getting  wet  in  the  damp 
grasses  on  the  highlands,  and  sometimes  losing  our- 
selves for  a  moment  in  the  clouds  that  lie  late  on  the 
mountains  ;  seeing  lovely,  narrow,  and  profound 
vales,  wherein  the  rain  fell  with  a  roar  like  hail ; 
where  the  streams  swelled  suddenly  like  veins,  and 
where  often  there  was  no  living  creature  discernible, 
not  even  a  bird ;  where  silence  brooded,  and  the 
world  seemed  empty. 

A  very  long  day's  journey  brought  us  out  of  the 
green  and  fertile  land  that  lies  with  its  face  to  the 
trade-wind  ;  there  the  clouds  gather  and  shed  their 
rains ;  but  all  of  the  earth  lying  in  the  lee  of  the 
great  central  peak  of  the  island  is  as  dust  and  ashes 


252  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

— un watered,  unfruitful,  and  uninteresting,  save  as 
a  picture  of  deep  and  dreadful  desolation.  No  won- 
der that  Kahele  longed  to  tarry  in  the  small  Eden  of 
Meha,  knowing  that  we  were  about  to  journey  into 
the  deserts  that  lie  beyond  it.  No  wonder  that  the 
shining  shores  of  the  valley  beguiled  him,  when  he 
knew  that  henceforth  the  sea  would  break  upon  long 
reaches  of  black  lava,  as  unpicturesque  as  a  coal- 
heap,  the  path  along  which  was  pain,  and  the  way- 
sides anguish  of  spirit ;  where  fruit  was  scarce,  and 
water  brackish,  and  every  edible  dried  and  deceit- 
ful. 

Having  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just — for  I  felt  that 
I  had  done  what  I  could  to  reclaim  my  backsliding 
Kahele— I  awoke  on  a  sabbath  morning  that  pre- 
sented a  singular  spectacle.  Its  chief  features  were 
a  glittering,  metallic-tinted  sea,  and  a  smoking  plain 
backed  by  naked  sand-hills.  The  low  brush,  scat- 
tered thinly  over  the  earth,  tried  hard  to  look  green, 
but  seldom  got  nearer  to  it  than  a  dusty  gray.  Evi- 
dently there  was  no  sap  in  those  charred  twigs,  for 
they  snapped  like  coral  when  you  tested  their  pli- 
ancy. A  few  huts,  dust-colored  and  ragged,  were 
scattered  along  the  trail ;  they  had  apparently  lost 
all  hope,  and  paused  by  the  wayside,  to  end  their 
days  in  despair. 

The  hale-pule,  or  prayer -house,  chief  of  the  for 
lorn  huts,  by  virtue  of  extraordinary  hollo wness  and 
a  ventilation  that  was  only  exceeded  by  all  out-of- 
doors — this  prayer-house,  or  church,  was  thrown 
open  to  the  public,  and,  to  my  amazement,  Kahele 


KAHELE  253 

suggested  the  propriety  of  our  attending  worship, 
even  before  the  first  conch  had  been  blown  from  the 
rude  door  by  the  deacon  himself. 

We  went  along  the  chalky  path  that  led  to  the 
front  of  the  house,  and  sat  in  the  shelter  of  the 
eaves  for  an  hour  or  more.  Seven  times  that  conch 
was  blown,  and  on  each  occasion  the  neighborhood 
responded,  though  stingily ;  a  few  worshippers 
would  issue  out  of  the  wilderness  and  draw  slowly 
toward  us.  One  or  two  men  came  on  horseback, 
and  were  happy  in  their  mood,  exhibiting  the  quali- 
ties of  their  animals  on  the  flats  before  us.  Some 
came  on  foot,  with  their  shoes  in  hand  ;  the  shoes 
were  carefully  put  on  at  the  church  door,  but  put 
off  again  a  few  moments  after  entering  the  rustic 
pews.  Dogs  came,  about  one  for  every  human  ; 
these  lay  all  over  the  floor,  or  mounted  the  seats,  or 
were  held  in  the  arms  of  the  congregation,  as  the 
case  might  be.  Children  came  and  played  a  savage 
version  of  leap-frog  in  the  lee  of  the  church,  but 
they  were  bleak-looking  youngsters,  not  at  all  like 
the  little  human  vegetables  that  flourished  in  the 
genial  atmosphere  of  the  valley  of  Meha. 

The  conch  was  blown  again  ;  the  most  melan- 
choly sound  that  ever  issued  from  windy  cavity 
floated  up  and  down  that  disconsolate  land,  and 
seemed  to  be  saying,  in  pathetic  gusts,  "  Come  to 
meeting  !  Come  to  meeting  !  "  Probably  every- 
one that  could  come  had  come  ;  at  any  rate  no  one 
else  followed,  and,  after  a  decent  pause,  the  services 
of  the  morning  were  begun.  The  brief  interval 


254  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

of  ominous  silence  that  preceded  the  opening  was 
enlivened  by  the  caprices  of  a  fractious  horse,  and 
at  least  two  stampedes  of  the  canine  persuasion,  at 
which  time  the  dogs  seemed  possessed  of  devils,  and 
were  running  down  in  a  body  toward  the  sea,  but 
thought  better  of  it,  and  stole  noiselessly  back 
again,  one  after  the  other,  just  in  season  for  the 
opening  prayer,  to  which  they  entered  with  a  low- 
comedy  cast  of  countenance,  and  a  depressed  tail. 

That  prayer  bubbled  out  of  the  savage  throat  like 
a  clear  fountain  of  vowels.  The  dignity  of  the  man 
was  impressive,  and  his  face  the  picture  of  devotion  ; 
his  deportment,  likewise,  was  all  that  could  be  de- 
sired in  anyone,  under  the  circumstances.  Either 
he  was  a  rare  specimen  of  the  very  desirable  convert 
from  barbarism,  or  he  was  a  consummate  actor ;  I 
dare  not  guess  which  of  the  two  beguiled  me  with 
his  grave  and  euphonious  prayer. 

I  regret  to  state  that,  during  the  energetic  ex- 
pounding of  the  Scriptures,  a  few  of  the  congrega- 
tion forgot  themselves  and  slept  audibly ;  a  few 
arose  and  went  under  the  eaves  to  smoke  ;  children 
went  down  on  all-fours,  and  crawled  under  the  pews 
in  chase  of  pups  as  restless  and  incorrigible  as  them- 
selves. At  a  later  period,  someone  announced  an 
approaching  schooner,  and  the  body  of  the  house 
was  unceremoniously  cleared,  for  a  schooner  was  as 
rare  a  visitor  to  that  part  of  the  island  as  an  angel  to 
any  quarter  of  the  globe.  Further  ceremony  was 
out  of  the  question,  at  least  until  the  excitement 
had  subsided  ;  the  parson,  with  philosophical  oom« 


KAHELE  25$ 

posure,  precipitated  his  doxology,  and  we  all  walked 
out  into  the  dreary  afternoon  to  watch  the  schooner 
blowing  in  toward  shore. 

The  wind  was  rising  ;  white  clouds  scudded  over 
us ;  transparent  shadows  slid  under  us  ;  the  whole 
earth  seemed  unstable,  and  life  scarcely  worth  the 
living.  Along  the  dead  shore  leaped  the  sea,  in  a 
careless,  dare-devil  fashion;  hollow  rocks  spouted 
great  mouthfuls  of  spray  contemptuously  into  the 
air  ;  columns  of  red  dust  climbed  into  the  sky,  reel- 
ing to  and  fro  as  they  passed  over  the  bleak  desert 
toward  the  sea  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  island. 
These  dust-chimneys  were  continually  moving  over 
the  land  so  long  as  the  wind  prevailed,  which  was 
for  the  rest  of  that  afternoon,  to  my  certain  knowl- 
edge. In  fact,  the  gale  increased  every  hour ;  sheets 
of  spray  leaped  over  the  rocky  barriers  of  the  shore 
and  matted  the  dry  grass,  that  hissed  like  straw 
whenever  a  fresh  gust  struck  it. 

One  tattered  cocoa-palm,  steadfast  in  its  mission, 
though  the  living  emblem  of  a  forlorn  hope,  wrestled 
with  the  tempest  that  threw  all  its  crisp  and  rattling 
leaves  over  its  head  like  a  pompon,  and  fretted  it 
till  its  slender  neck  twisted  as  though  it  were  being 
throttled.  The  thatched  house  seemed  about  to 
go  to  pieces,  and  every  timber  creaked  in  agony  ; 
yet  we  gathered  in  its  lee,  and  awaited  the  slow  ap- 
proach of  the  schooner.  Near  shore  she  put  about, 
and  seemed  upon  the  point  of  scudding  off  to  sea 
again.  For  a  moment  our  hearts  were  in  our 
throats ;  we  were  in  danger  of  missing  the  sensa- 


256  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

tion  of  the  season  :  new  faces,  new  topics  of  conver- 
sation, and,  perhaps,  something  good  to  eat,  sent 
thither  by  Providence,  who  seldom  forgets  his  chil- 
dren in  the  waste  places,  though  I  wonder  that  he 
lets  them  lose  themselves  so  often. 

The  schooner  rocked  on  the  big  rollers  for  half 
an  hour ;  a  small  boat  put  off  from  her,  with  some 
dark  objects  seated  in  it ;  out  on  the  great  rollers 
the  little  shallop  rocked,  sometimes  hidden  from 
view  by  an  intervening  wave,  sometimes  thrown 
partly  out  of  the  water  as  it  balanced  for  a  moment 
on  the  crest  of  a  breaker,  but  gradually  drawing  in 
toward  a  bit  of  beach,  where  there  was  a  possible 
chance  of  landing,  in  some  shape  or  other.  A  few 
rods  from  shore,  three  dusky  creatures  deliber- 
ately plunged  overboard  and  swam  toward  us.  We 
rushed  in  a  body  to  welcome  them — two  women, 
old  residents  of  the  place,  who  came  out  of  the  sea 
wailing  for  joy  at  their  safe  return  to  a  home  no 
more  inviting  than  the  one  whose  prominent  feat- 
ures I  have  sought  to  reproduce.  Down  they  sat, 
not  three  feet  from  the  water,  that  bubbled  and 
hissed  along  the  coarse  sand,  and  lifted  up  their 
voices  in  pitiful  and  impressive  monotones,  as  they 
recounted  in  a  savagely  poetic  chant  their  various 
adventures  since  they  last  looked  upon  the  beloved 
picture  of  desolation  that  lay  about  them. 

The  third  passenger— a  youngster — came  to  land 
when  he  had  got  tired  of  swimming  for  the  fun  of 
it,  and,  once  more  upon  his  native  heath,  he  seemed 
at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  do  next,  but  suffered  him- 


KAHELR  257 

self  to  be  vigorously  embraced  by  nearly  everybody 
in  sight,  after  which  he  joined  his  companions  with 
placid  satisfaction,  and  capered  about  as  naturally 
as  though  nothing  unusual  had  happened. 

Off  into  the  windy  sea  sped  the  small  iichooner, 
bending  to  the  breeze  as  though  it  were  a  perpet- 
ual miracle  that  brought  her  right-side-up  every 
once  in  a  while.  Back  to  the  deserted  prayer-house 
our  straggling  community  wended  its  way  ;  every- 
thing that  had  been  said  before  was  said  again,  with 
embellishments.  It  was  beginning  to  grow  tiresome. 
I  longed  to  plunge  into  the  desert  that  stretched 
around,  seeking  some  possible  oasis  where  the  faint- 
ing spirit  might  reassure  itself  that  earth  was  beau- 
tiful and  life  a  boon. 

Kahele  agreed  with  me  that  this  sort  of  thing 
was  growing  tiresome.  He  knew  of  a  good  place 
not  many  miles  away  ;  we  could  go  there  and  sleep. 
It  presented  a  church  and  a  good  priest,  and  other 
inducements  of  an  exceedingly  proper  and  unexcep- 
tionable character.  The  prospect,  though  uninvit- 
ing, was  sufficient  to  revive  me  for  the  moment,  and 
during  that  moment  we  mounted,  and  were  blown 
away  on  horseback.  The  wind  howled  in  our  ears ; 
sand-clouds  peppered  us  heavily  ;  small  pebbles  and 
grit  cut  our  faces  ;  heavier  gusts  than  usual  changed 
earth,  sea,  and  sky  into  temporary  chaos.  The  day 
waned,  so  did  our  spirits,  so  did  the  life  of  our  poor 
beasts.  In  the  distance,  the  church  of  Kahele's 
prophecy  stood  out  like  a  small  rock  in  a  land  than 
which  no  land  I  wot  of  can  be  wearier.  The  sun 
17 


253  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

fell  toward  the  sea ;  the  wind  subsided,  though  it 
was  still  lusty  and  disagreeable. 

We  entered  the  church,  having  turned  our  dis- 
heartened beasts  into  paddock,  and  found  a  meagre 
and  late  afternoon  session,  seated  upon  mats  that 
covered  the  earthen  floor.  A  priest  strove  to  kindle 
a  flame  of  religious  enthusiasm  in  our  unnatural 
hearts,  but  I  fear  he  sought  in  vain.  The  truth  was, 
we  were  tired  to  death  ;  we  needed  wholesome  soup, 
savory  meats,  and  steaming  vegetables,  to  human- 
ize us.  I  didn't  want  to  be  a  Christian  on  an  empty 
stomach.  The  wind  began  to  sigh,  after  its  pas- 
sion was  somewhat  spent ;  sand  sifted  over  the  mat- 
ting with  a  low  hiss ;  and  the  dull  -  red  curtains, 
that  stretched  across  the  lower  half  of  the  windows, 
flapped  dolefully.  Overhead,  the  wasps  had  hung 
their  mud  baskets,  and  the  gray  atmosphere  of  every- 
thing was  depressing  in  the  extreme.  Service  was 
soon  over  ;  the  people  departed  across  the  windy 
moors,  with  much  fluttering  of  gay  garments.  A 
horse  stood  at  pasture,  with  his  head  down,  his  back 
to  the  wind,  and  his  tail  glued  to  his  side  —  a  pict- 
ure of  sublime  resignation.  A  high  mound,  with  a 
sandstone  sepulchre  built  on  the  face  of  it,  cut  off 
half  of  the  very  red  sunset,  while  a  cactus  -  hedge, 
starred  with  pale  pink  blossoms,  ran  up  a  low  hill, 
and  made  silhouette  pictures  against  the  sky. 

I  turned  to  watch  a  large  butterfly,  blown  over' in 
the  late  gale — stranded,  as  it  were,  at  the  church- 
porch,  and  too  far  gone  to  set  sail  again  ;  a  white 
sea-bird  wheeled  over  me  in  big  circles,  and 


KAHELE  259 

screamed  faintly  ;  something  fell  in  the  church  with 
a  Icud  echo — a  prayer-book,  probably  ;  and  then  the 
priest  came  out,  fastened  the  door  of  the  deserted 
sanctuary,  and  the  day's  duties  were  done.  We  had 
nothing  to  do  but  follow  him  to  his  small  frame  dwell- 
ing, where  the  one  little  window  to  the  west  seemed 
to  be  set  with  four  panes  of  burnished  gold,  and  some 
homely  household  shrubs  in  his  garden-plat  shivered, 
and  blossomed  while  they  shivered,  but  looked  like 
so  many  widows  and  orphans,  the  whole  of  them. 

At  the  hospitable  board  life  began  afresh.  An- 
other day  and  we  should  again  approach  the  bor- 
ders of  the  earthly  paradise  that  glorified  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  island.  Kahele's  eyes  sparkled ; 
my  heart  leaped  within  me  ;  I  felt  that  there  was  a 
charm  in  living,  after  all ;  and  the  moment  was  a 
critical  one,  for  had  the  lad  begged  me  to  return 
with  him  to  the  beguilements  of  barbarism,  I  think  it 
possible  that  I  might  have  consented.  But  he  didn't ! 
He  was  the  pink  of  propriety,  and  an  honor  to  his  pro- 
genitors. He  said  a  brief  grace  before  eating,  prayed 
audibly  before  retiring,  was  patient  to  the  pitch  of 
stupidity,  and  amiable  to  the  verge  of  idiocy. 

At  last  I  began  to  see  through  him.  Another 
four-and-twenty  hours,  and  he  would  be  restored 
to  the  arms  of  his  guardians ;  the  sweet  lanes  of 
Lahaina  would  again  blossom  before  him  ;  and  all 
that  he  thought  to  be  excellent  in  life  would  know 
him  as  it  had  known  him  only  a  few  weeks  before. 
It  was  time  that  he  had  again  begun  to  walk  the 
straight  path,  and  he  knew  it.  He  was  Kahele,  the 


26O  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

two-sided  ;  Kahele,  the  chameleon,  whose  character 
and  disposition  partook  of  the  color  of  his  sur- 
roundings ;  who  was  pious  to  the  tune  of  the 
church-bell,  yet  agile  as  any  dancer  of  the  lascivi- 
ous hula  at  the  thump  of  the  tom-tom.  He  was  a 
representative  worthy  of  some  consideration ;  a 
typical  Hawaiian  whose  versatility  was  only  ex- 
celled by  the  plausibility  with  which  he  developed 
new  phases  of  his  kaleidoscopic  character.  He  was 
very  charming,  and  as  diverting  in  one  role  as 
another.  He  was,  moreover,  worthy  of  much  praise 
for  his  skill  in  playing  each  part  so  perfectly  that  to 
this  hour  I  am  not  sure  which  of  his  dispositions  he 
excelled  in,  nor  in  which  he  was  most  at  home. 

Kahele,  adieu  !  I  might  have  upbraided  thee  for 
thy  inconstancy,  had  I  not  been  accused  of  that  same 
myself.  I  might  have  felt  some  modicum  of  con- 
tempt for  thee,  had  thy  skin  been  white  ;  but  under 
the  cover  of  thy  darkness  sin  hid  her  ugliness,  and 
thy  rich  blood  leaped  to  many  generous  actions  that 
a  white-livered  sycophant  might  not  aspire  to.  I 
can  but  forgive  all,  and  sometimes  long  a  little  to 
live  over  the  two  sides  of  you — extremes  that  met 
in  your  precious  corporosity,  and  made  me  con- 
tented with  a  changeful  arid  sometimes  cheerless 
pilgrimage  ;  for  I  knew,  boy,  that  if  I  went  astray, 
you  would  meet  me  upon  the  highest  moral  grounds  ; 
and,  though  I  could  not  rely  upon  you,  somehow 
you  came  to  time  when  least  expected,  and  filled  me 
with  admiration  and  surprise — a  sentiment  which 
time  and  absence  only  threaten  to  perpetuate. 


KAHELE'S  FOREORDINATION 


WHY  does  experience  profit  us  nothing?  I 
have  asked  myself  this  question  a  thousand 
times,  and  I  repeat  it  now,  as  I  hold  in  my  hand  a 
rare  copy  of  a  sometime  obsolete  volume  entitled 
"  South  Sea  Idyls."  That  book  contains  the  chron- 
icles of  my  emotional  adolescence.  It  was  written  in 
the  first  flush  of  youth.  It  is  too  true  not  to  be  dis- 
credited, and  it  has  invariably  been  discredited  by 
the  wrong  readers  in  the  wrong  stages  of  the  nar- 
rative. The  volume  contains  experiences  in  three 
episodes,  respectively  entitled : 

"The  House  of  the  Sun." 

"  The  Chapel  of  the  Palms." 

"Kahele." 

There  is  naked  truth  enough  in  these  chapters  to 
flood  a  well.  I  know  this  better  than  anyone  else, 
and  in  proof  of  it  I  triumphantly  refer  the  reader 
to  the  valedictory,  which  was  written  in  the  days  of 
my  enthusiasm,  while  the  almond  tree  flourished,  ere. 
the  stars  were  darkened,  and  before  the  grasshopper 
had  become  a  burden  and  all  the  daughters  of  music 
were  brought  low!  After  my  third  rhapsody,  en- 
titled "  Kahele/'  that  soft-eyed  savage  discreetly 
took  his  leave, 


262  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

Time  and  absence  did  their  work  effectually.  I 
returned  to  the  metropolis  of  the  Pacific.  A  letter 
followed  me  couched  in  appalling  English.  In  it  I 
detected  the  delicate  aroma  of  the  grape-blossoms 
of  Lahaina.  In  spirit  I  walked  again  among  pep- 
per groves,  and  sunned  my  soul  beside  the  palm- 
fringed  sea.  It  was  a  message  of  love  from  my  sav- 
age, and  my  heart  leaped  within  me  as  I  recalled 
the  fascinating,  inconsistent  past.  I  replied  cor- 
dially, and  set  sail  for  other  shores.  The  whole 
world  lay  between  us.  We  stood  with  the  soles  of 
our  feet  turned  toward  one  another  ;  and,  had  we 
ascended  at  that  moment,  our  spirits  could  never 
have  met  in  the  wide  universe.  Fortunate  fate  I 
we  both  survive,  and  I  have  lived  to  prove  myself  a 
prophet  in  my  own  country,  where,  thank  heaven ! 
honors  are  easy.  Once  more  I  drifted  back  to  the 
land  of  my  adoption.  Seven  years  stretched  be- 
tween me  and  the  glimmering  past.  I  thought  of  it 
as  of  a  dream  ;  I  dreamed  of  it  as  of  a  thought — 
not  a  semblance  of  reality  remained.  Listen  to  the 
sequel. 

One  morning  I  was  summoned  from  my  late  break- 
fast by  the  postman,  who,  with  the  polite  discretion 
which  has  distinguished  him  from  the  first  hour  of 
our  acquaintance,  begged  me  to  open  a  letter  which 
was  inscribed  to — 

" Mr.  Charles  Stoodard,  California" 

It  was  subdirected  to  an  innumerable  lock-box 
which  does  not  exist  I  broke  the  seal  and  saw  at 


K A  HELENS  FOREORDINATION  263 

a  glance  that  the  document  was  unmistakably 
mine.  No  one  but  a  savage  could  have  written  it ; 
no  one  but  a  boned  savage  stuffed  with  missionary 
teachings;  one  whose  meat  and  drink,  whose  food 
and  raiment,  whose  staff  of  life,  whose  First  Eeader, 
Second  Reader,  Third  Reader,  and  Speller,  and  His- 
tory, and  Romance,  has  been  the  New  Testament ; 
one  who  has  oiled  the  gospel  according  to  St.  John 
in  the  crown  of  his  hat,  and  has  rolled  cigarettes 
with  the  Song  of  Songs ;  who  has  stormed  the 
school-room  ceiling  with  Scriptural  wads ;  in  brief, 
a  native  Hawaiian  scripturist.  Moreover,  his  name 
followed  the  scrip,  which  I  copy  word  for  word : 

"  PORT  GAMBLE,  Kitsap  County,  W.  T. 
"  MB.  CHARLES  STUDABD,  ESQ. — DEAR  SIR  :  I  am 
very  glad  to  see  you  my  Dear  Lord  of  Our  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ.  Amenn.  This  is  the  first  letter  I  sent 
to  you  my  Dear.  I  remember  you  for  the  year  One 
thousand  Eight  hundred  and  seventy  one — before 
we  are  to  gone  Circuit  the  Island  of  Maui — and 
gone  to  Kaupo — from  Kaupo  to  Hana  and  see  the 
two  Rev  Father  Priests.  I  am  your  young  servant 
Kahele.  I  live  to  [left]  Honolulu  on  the  last  day  of 
July  and  come  here  with  my  Both  [which  is  Boss, 
with  a  palpable  lisp]  and  then  my  Both  he  dead.  I 
had  nothing  to  do  here — no  one  to  keep  my  life — if 
you  please  to  give  me  some  job  then  I  stay  with 
you  for  five  year.  If  you  see  this  letter  you  tere- 
graph  for  me.  This  is  our  second  letter  to  you — 
[mark  with  what  royal  condescension  he  recalls  our 
former  correspondence]  because  you  write  me  one 
letter  to  Lahaina. 

"  Your  young  servant, 

"  KAHELE." 


264  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

It  was  all  his  own  ;  the  tropical  luxuriance  of 
language,  the  impressive  majesty  of  the  opening 
paragraph,  the  indiscriminate  use  of  the  letters  I  and 
r — a  characteristic  of  the  Hawaiian  tongue — the 
painful  imitation  of  a  difficult  language,  seldom 
spoken  with  much  care,  and  in  his  case  caught 
wholly  by  ear.  What  did  I  do  ?  I  telegraphed  him 
within  the  hour  to  work  his  passage  down  to  my 
arms  by  the  first  vessel  that  met  his  eye.  All  was 
forgiven  on  the  instant ;  I  pictured  that  starving 
prodigal  skipping  like  the  young  unicorn  on  receipt 
of  my  reply. 

I  imagined  the  dusky  fellow  in  the  hour  of  his 
deliverance,  and  impatiently  awaited  his  arrival. 
"  No  sail  from  day  to  day."  By  and  by  came  a 
second  letter,  evidently  from  the  same  hand— a  flesh- 
colored  envelope,  not  without  blemish,  bearing  this 
fragmentary  address : 

"Mr.  Charles  W.  Stodd." 

By  this  time  he  had  come  to  the  edge  of  the  enve- 
lope, and  he  stopped  short  in  his  tracks.  Within, 
the  unhappy  scribe  continued  his  heroic  struggle 
with  the  perplexing  intricacies  of  my  name  : 

"MR.  CHARLES  WARREN  STODDER — Aloha  nui  oe: 
I  received  your  tergraph  on  thirteen  of  this  month  ; 
when  I  open  it  and  read  my  heart  is  very  much 
of  joyful.  I  wait  for  the  steamer,  when  he  come 
Seattle  then  I  go  to  your  home.  Now,  my  Dear 
Both  [still  lisping]  I  have  no  news  to  tell  you  about 
the  golden  chain  of  love  between  you  and  me. 
"  Your  young  servant, 

"  KAHELE." 


KAH&L&S  FOREORDINATION  26$ 

Again  I  awaited  the  arrival  of  my  young  servant, 
and  thought  of  him  a  thousand  times,  storm-tossed 
upon  the  wintry  seas,  heart-sick,  home-sick,  sighing 
for  the  fragrant  winds  that  visit  so  lightly  the  green 
seclusion  of  his  native  vales.  Once  more  the  faith- 
ful postman  entered  with  a  letter  and  a  smile  ;  the 
envelope  smaller  than  usual,  hence  the  following 
address  : 

"Mr.  Charles  Warren  S., 

"S.F.,  Calf." 

And  within,  the  latest  effort  of  this  tireless  nomen- 
clator : 

"  WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 
"  MESSIEURS  CHAS.  WARREN  STOD  : 

[Age  cannot  wither,  nor  custom  stale,  his  infinite  variety !] 

"  SIR  :  This  is  the  third  letter  I  sent  to  you,  my 
Dear  Sir.  I  leave  the  Puget  Sound  on  the  eigh- 
teen of  December,  A.D.  1878.  I  go  to  Seat  [Seat- 
tle] on  the  steamer  Alida,  and  see  the  Captain  of 
Dakota,  the  Maill  steamer  of  San  Francisco.  I  tell 
him  I  want  to  work  my  passage  from  Seat  to  S.  F. 
He  tell  me  no.  I  stay  in  Seat  two  days.  On  the 
twenty-two  of  Decem.  I  coming  to  Tacoma  till  this 
time  I  write  this  letter.  If  you  please — in  love  for 
your  servant — to  send  me  ten  dollars  inside  letter  for 
me  to  pay  my  passage.  If  I  stay  with  you  I  pay  you 
my  owe.  Your  servant, 

"KAHELE." 

He  no  longer  called  himself  my  "young  servant ;  * 
he  seemed  to  have  grown  old  in  the  vain  attempt  to 
reach  a  haven  of  rest.  This  touched  me  to  the  quick. 
Ten  dollars  are  but  as  a  feather  in  the  balance  when 


266  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

there  is  a  soul  to  save.  In  hot  haste  I  purchased  a 
ticket,  and  it  was  forwarded  with  a  line  of  solace  to 
the  companion  of  my  brighter  days.  Once  more 
I  watched  and  waited.  From  my  window  on  the 
hill  I  signalled  every  passing  sail.  The  hours  lagged. 
What  if  the  poor  fellow,  prematurely  aged,  had  al- 
ready dropped  into  the  greedy  grave  that  seemed 
yawning  at  his  feet  ?  What  if  the  means  of  his  de- 
liverance never  reached  him,  but  fell  by  chance  into 
the  hands  of  some  worthless  straggler  who  might  at 
any  moment  cross  my  threshold  and  attempt  to  palm 
upon  me  a  forged  identity  ?  Seven  years  added  to 
the  infant  Kahele  might  be  equal  to  almost  anyone. 
How  was  I  to  detect  a  fraud  unless  it  were  of  another 
color,  which,  please  heaven,  it  was  not  to  be  ? 

With  the  dusk,  one  windy  eve,  shrouded  in  cold 
sea-fog,  the  picture  of  desolation,  Kahele  stood  in 
the  doorway.  He  was  changed.  He  was  a  strapping 
fellow  of  one  and  twenty,  scantily  clad  as  to  his  up- 
per works,  but  bearing  himself  with  an  air  of  decayed 
elegance,  and  wearing  conspicuously  a  pair  of  nobby 
boots,  with  tapering  hoodlum  heels.  He  had  evi- 
dently been  a  swell.  He  blushed  with  reference  to 
his  flannel  shirt,  his  overalls,  his  shocking-bad  hat. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that  this  was  the  youngster 
who  persuaded  me  in  the  barbarian  days,  who  wooed 
me  in  the  "  House  of  the  Sun,"  beguiled  me  in  the 
"  Chapel  of  the  Palms,"  and  distracted  me  in  the 
third  chapter  of  his  career — a  chapter  that  is  digni- 
fied with  his  mellifluous  name.  The  ambrosial  locks 
distilling  the  faint  fragrance  of  cocoanut  oil;  the 


KAHEL&S  FOREORDINATION  267 

mild  eyes,  with  their  ingenuous  glance,  the  slightly 
depressed  nose,  the  proud,  sensuous  lip,  now  mantled 
with  gosling-down — it  was  he  without  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt.  To  put  him  at  his  ease  I  extended  to  him  the 
freedom  of  the  town,  and  he  began  the  new  life  by  im- 
mediately going  through  my  wardrobe  like  a  million 
moths.  There  was  little  for  him  to  do  but  to  look  in- 
teresting. To  be  sure,  he  surveyed  the  city,  and  gave 
me  official  returns  each  evening,  after  dinner.  He 
drew  maps  of  the  streets  ;  had  names  and  numbers 
at  his  tongue's  end  ;  inspected  the  chief  public  build- 
ings, and  passed  judgment  upon  them  with  the 
obtrusive  confidence  of  a  circumnavigator,  though 
I  am  proud  to  state  that  the  Palace  Hotel  staggered 
him — he  confessed  to  me  that  it  was  finer  in  some 
respects  than  anything  in  Honolulu.  He  reverenced 
Woodward's  Garden,  in  common  with  the  masses ; 
enjoyed  the  drama  ;  revelled  in  the  church.  He  as- 
pired night  and  day.  In  confidential  moments  he 
broke  to  me  his  plans  for  a  future,  that  seemed  to 
him  boundless  in  its  capability.  After  a  fete  at 
Woodward's  he  longed  to  enter  the  arena.  The 
drama  inspired  him  with  dreams  of  the  stage.  As 
for  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  he  more  than  once 
talked  seriously  of  studying  for  the  priesthood,  and 
even  asked  me  how  much  it  would  cost — he  always 
counted  the  cost,  an  example  too  seldom  followed 
by  his  betters.  A  delicious  melancholy  seized  him 
whenever  he  inclined  to  the  novitiate,  but  his  am- 
bition was  boundless,  and  I  think  he  preferred  a 
roving  commission — one  that  would  admit  of  his  aid- 


268  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

ing  the  propagation  of  the  faith  by  easy  stages  in 
every  quarter  of  the  habitable  globe. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  life  began  to  pall. 
The  youth  missed  his  kindred,  and  mourned  for 
them.  Our  talks  were  all  of  the  past.  We  lived 
over  the  riotous  days,  and  renewed  our  prilgrimages 
until  there  was  no  valley  left  unvisited,  no  stone  un- 
turned. He  chanted  his  legendary  songs  in  mellow 
gutturals  ;  sat  in  the  sunshine  of  the  deep  bay-win- 
dow ;  looked  off  upon  the  ships  in  the  harbor,  and 
asked  the  price  of  them.  His  wage  was  oftenest 
spent  in  fruit-stalls,  though  on  one  occasion  he  re- 
turned to  me  with  a  small  casket  of  jewels,  which 
he  had  purchased  at  the  street-corner,  under  a  torch- 
light, for  fifteen  cents.  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that 
some  of  his  people  must  be  within  reach,  and  I  sent 
him  forth  to  take  the  city  census.  Day  after  day 
he  stood  on  Market  Street,  watching  for  Kanakas  ; 
night  after  night  he  returned  again,  empty-handed, 
plunged  in  black  despair. 

At  last  he  caught  one  on  the  fly,  a  mariner,  one  of 
a  "  forec's'le "  full  of  them.  That  night  there  was 
revelry  on  the  water  front,  and  the  throb  of  the  cal- 
abash quickened  the  feet  of  the  Hula  dancers  until 
daybreak,  when  they  all  ate  of  the  national  poi  out 
of  one  trough  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just.  No 
trouble  now,  no  languishing,  no  weariness  of  spirit. 
He  went  his  way  rejoicing,  and  returned  like  the 
prodigal  when  he  had  wasted  his  portion. 

I  found  that  he  had,  as  it  were,  made  his  entrance 
into  society.  He  sparkled  with  fifteen  cent  jewelry, 


KAHEL&S  FOREORDINAT10N  269 

and  wore  his  hat  over  one  ear.  He  babbled  in  Span- 
ish, and  casually  observed  that  the  average  senorita 
is  as  handsome  as  the  ditto  Waihine.  He  wallowed 
in  verbs,  regular  and  irregular.  He  once  said,  as 
in  a  dream,  yo  amo,  and  again,  while  his  mind  wan- 
dered, nostros  amdmos.  The  confusion  that  followed 
this  involuntary  confession  was  not  that  of  a  scholar. 
I  asked  him  where  he  had  been,  and  why  he  had 
sought  to  master  a  language  which  was  little  spoken 
save  by  its  inheritors.  He  darkened,  but  without  a 
stammer  he  told  how  his  evenings  were  passed  in 
sweet  communion  with  a  select  few,  who,  like  him- 
self, admired  the  melodious  speech  of  Spain.  But 
where  ?  With  an  innocence  that  threw  me  off  my 
guard,  he  gave  me  an  address — Pacific  Street,  near 
Kearney — an  unsavory  quarter,  known  as  the  Bar- 
bary  Coast. 

Still  harping  on  his  Spanish,  I  showed  him  some 
papers  long  treasured  as  an  heirloom  in  this  home- 
stead— certificates  of  stock  in  a  fabulous  Mexican 
mine,  from  whose  undiscovered  bourne,  so  far  as 
heard  from,  no  traveller  returns ;  at  all  events,  no  liv- 
ing witness  has  gone  farther  than  levying  an  assess- 
ment— and  lived.  With  the  deepest  interest  he 
studied  the  certificates ;  with  the  poetic  fervor  of  his 
race  he  built  his  lordly  castle  and  peopled  it  with  the 
choicer  spirits  of  our  acquaintance.  It  was  his  wish 
that  we  might  fly  at  once  to  this  glittering  realm  and 
rest  from  our  labors.  I  smiled  sadly,  bitterly ;  I 
always  do  when  a  bright  manhood  is  painted  for  me 
by  that  youth  in  whose  imperfect  lexicon  there  is  no 


270  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

such  word  as  "  fail."  Kahele  soothed  me  with  sav- 
age songs.  Together  we  groped  among  the  evening 
shadows  of  Kearney  Street,  than  which  no  respect- 
able thoroughfare  in  God's  world  is  worse  lighted. 
It  was  my  wish  to  hear  the  guitar  touched  by  the 
skilled  fingers  of  his  friends,  who  are  to  the  man- 
ner born  ;  but  ere  we  reached  the  quarter  he  had 
idealized  I  turned  and  he  was  gone  !  Like  a  shadow 
he  came,  like  a  shadow  he  departed. 

I  passed  three  silent,  sensitive,  sorrowful  days.  It 
is  not  well  to  make  your  idols,  and  to  find  them  clay, 
and  to  prosecute  the  unprofitable  business  year  after 
year.  He  returned  not.  No  more  I  heard  his  foot 
upon  the  stair  ;  no  more  I  listened  to  his  chant — its 
soft  cadenza,  is  forever  hushed  within  my  chamber. 
I  searched  the  journals  for  casualty  returns.  I 
haunted  the  Morgue  like  a  press  reporter.  I  grew 
morbid  and  morose.  Then  I  chanced  upon  his  com- 
monplace book ;  with  the  lynx-eye  of  a  detective  I 
studied  its  pages,  but  gained  no  clew  to  the  mystery. 
I  discovered  among  his  effects  a  copy  of  "  Spanish 
without  a  Master,  on  the  Most  Simple  Principles, 
for  Universal  Self  -  Tuition.  Price,  Twenty  -  five 
Cents,"  "The  Letter- Writer's  Own  Book,"  a  broken 
cuff-button,  and  some  diamond  studs  with  the  glass 
out — the  debris  of  his  jewel-case.  Evidently  if  he 
fled  from  me,  his  flight  was  premature.  Why  did  I 
suspect  aught  and  look  into  the  family  archives  to 
find  proof  of  his  guilt  ? 

The  mining  stock  was  missing  ! 

I  visited  the  several  boards  in  the  vague  fear  that 


KAHELE  S  FOREORDINATION  2?1 

I  would  come  suddenly  upon  the  culprit  bulling  the 
market  with  his  Mexico.  But  the  Exchange  was  in- 
nocent of  him  ;  Pauper  Alley  knew  him  not  ;  and 
his  shadow  never  again  darkened  Kearney  Street,  to 
my  knowledge.  Then  came  another  letter — the  last 
of  the  series.  It  was  a  wild  scrawl,  pencilled  in 
haste.  It  ran  as  follows  : 

"  CITY  OF  SANTA  CRUZ. 

"  I  am  gone  to  Los  Angel,  and  to  Mexico — with 
my  wife.  Aloha.  1C 

"  To  MR.  CHARLES." 

I  might  have  known  it,  had  I  but  listened  to  the 
lessons  of  experience  ;  yet  doubtless  it  was  written 
in  his  horoscope,  and  I  was  but  a  means  to  an  end. 
Now  dawns  upon  me  the  significance  of  the  porten- 
tous ides  of  May.  Fool  that  I  was,  I  might  have 
cut  the  net  that  enthralled  him,  and  perhaps  have 
spared  him  for  a  costlier  sacrifice.  Insensible  vic- 
tim !  Is  he  founding  his  fortune  in  the  fastnesses 
of  the  mineral  hills  ?  Is  it  well  with  him  in  his  moun- 
tain stronghold  ?  Do  the  torrents  that  pour  their 
silver  beside  his  door  muffle  the  tinkling  music  of 
guitars,  the  "click"  of  castanets,  the  boom  of  the 
hollow  drum  ?  Does  he  dream  again  of  the  loves  of 
the  Barbary  Coast,  chief  of  whom  is  his  Circe  ? 

Yet  am  I  proud  of  this  climax,  for  did  I  not  write 
of  him  years  ago,  to  wit:  "He  was  Kahele,  the 
two-sided ;  Kahele,  the  chameleon,  whose  character 
and  disposition  partook  of  the  color  of  his  surround- 
ings ;  who  was  pious  to  the  tune  of  the  church-bell, 


2/2  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

yet  agile  as  any  dancer  of  the  lascivious  Hula  at  the 
thump  of  the  tom-tom.  He  was  a  representative 
worthy  of  some  consideration  ;  a  typical  Hawaiian, 
whose  versatility  was  only  excelled  by  the  plausibil- 
ity with  which  he  developed  new  phases  of  his  ka- 
leidoscopic character.  He  was  very  charming,  and 
as  diverting  in  one  role  as  another.  He  was,  more- 
over, worthy  of  much  praise  for  his  skill  in  playing 
each  part  so  perfectly  that  to  this  hour  I  am  not  sure 
which  of  his  dispositions  he  excelled  in,  nor  in  which 
he  was  most  at  home." 

He  went,  therefore,  to  the  devil :  that  the  words  of 
the  prophet  might  be  fulfilled.  But  what  does  it 
matter  to  me  so  long  as  I  have  my  experiences  over 
and  over,  and  outlive  them  one  and  all !  Come,  dai- 
sies and  buttercups — the  more  the  merrier ;  spice 
my  dull  life  with  at  least  this  variety,  and  let  me 
agonize  or  let  me  die  : 

For  I  am  of  those  Azras  who,  when  they  love,  moat  p*ri»h  I 

And  I'm  &#f ully  used  to  it 


LOVE-LIFE  IN  A  LANA1 


IT  was  the  witching  hour  of  sunset,  and  we  sat  at 
dinner,  with  tearful  eyes,  over  the  Commo- 
dore's curry.  You  see  the  Commodore  prided  him- 
self on  the  strength  of  this  identical  dish,  and  kept 
a  mahogany-tinted  East-Indian  steward  for  the  sole 
sake  of  his  skill  in  concocting  the  same. 

We  dined,  as  usual,  in  the  Commodore's  unrivalled 
Lanai — the  very  thought  of  which  is  a  kind  of  spir- 
itual feast  to  this  hour — and  while  we  sat  at  his 
board  we  heard  for  the  twentieth  time  the  monoto- 
nous recital  of  his  adventures  by  flood  and  field. 
Like  most  sea-stories,  his  narratives  were  ever  fresh, 
as  though  they  had  been  stowed  away  in  brine,  were 
fished  out  of  the  vasty  deep  expressly  for  the  occa- 
sion, and  put  to  soak  again  in  their  natural  element 
as  soon  as  we  had  tasted  their  quality. 

The  Commodore  was  a  roaring  old  sea-dog,  who 
had  been  cast  ashore  somewhere  in  the  early  part  of 
the  century  ;  and  finding  himself  in  quarters  more 
comfortable  than  his  wildest  fancy  dared  to  paint,  he 
resolved  to  end  his  amphibious  days  on  that  strip  of 
shining  beach,  and  nevermore  lose  sight  of  land  un- 
til he  should  slip  his  cable  for  the  last  time,  and  sail 
into  undiscovered  seas.  Meanwhile  he  entertained 


2/4  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

his  friends  at  Wai-ki-ki,  a  kind  of  tropical  Long 
Branch  a  few  miles  out  of  Honolulu ;  and  the  grace 
with  which  he  introduced  Jack-ashore  to  the  dreamy 
twilight  of  his  Lanai  is  one  of  Jack's  deathless  mem- 
ories. We  met  the  Commodore  in  the  interesting 
character  of  Jack-ashore,  and  with  uncovered  heads 
and  hearts  full  of  emotion  entered  the  Lanai. 

And  now  for  a  word  to  the  uninitiated  concern- 
ing the  Lanai  in  question.  Off  there  in  the  Pacific, 
under  the  vertical  sun,  all  shadow  is  held  at  a  pre- 
mium. There  are  stationary  caravans  of  cocoa-trees, 
that  seem  to  be  looking  for  their  desert-home— 
weird,  slender  trees,  with  tattered  plumes,  and  a 
hopeless  air  about  them,  as  though  they  were  born 
to  sorrow,  but  meant  to  make  the  best  of  it.  Still, 
these  fine  old  palms  cast  a  thin  shadow,  about  the 
size  and  shape  of  a  colossal  spider,  and  there  is  no 
comfort  in  trying  to  sit  in  it.  Of  course,  there  are 
other  trees  with  more  foliage,  and  vines  that  run 
riot  and  blossom  themselves  to  death  ;  but  somehow 
the  sharp  arrows  of  sunshine  dart  in  and  sting  a 
fellow  in  an  unpleasant  fashion,  and  nothing  short 
of  a  good  thatch  is  to  be  relied  upon.  So  out  from 
the  low  eaves  of  the  Commodore's  cottage,  on  the 
seaward  side,  there  was  a  dense  roof  of  leaves  and 
grass,  that  ran  clear  to  the  edge  of  the  sea,  and 
looked  as  though  it  wanted  to  go  farther ;  but  the 
Commodore  knew  it  was  useless  to  attempt  to  roof 
over  that  institution.  There  was  a  leafy  tapestry 
hanging  two  feet  below  the  roof  on  the  three  sides 
thereof  and  from  the  floor  of  the  enclosure  rose  a 


LOVE- LIFE  IN  A   LAN  A I  2?$ 

sort  of  trellis  of  woven  rushes  that  hedged  us  in  to 
the  waist.  There  was  a  wicker-gate,  and  an  open 
space  between  the  leafy  stalactite  and  stalagmite 
barricade  for  ventilation  and  view,  and  everywhere 
there  was  a  kind  of  semi-twilight  that  seemed 
crammed  full  of  dreams  and  delicious  indolence — 
and  this  is  the  Hawaiian  Lanai  ! 

Of  course,  the  Commodore  always  dined  in  his 
Lanai.  It  was  like  taking  curry  on  the  quarter-deck 
of  the  What  -  you  -  call -her,  in  the  dead  calm  of  the 
Indian  seas ;  and  when  that  mahogany  steward  en- 
tered with  turban  and  mock-turtle — he  always 
looked  to  me  like  a  full-blooded  snake-charmer — I 
had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  restraining  myself,  for 
it  seemed  to  me  incredible  that  any  Jack-ashore 
could  dine  in  a  Lanai  with  his  Excellency,  and  not 
rise  between  each  savory  course  to  make  a  dozen 
profound  salaams  to  the  fattish  gentleman  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  who  was  literally  covered  with 
invisible  naval  buttons — and  the  hallucination  in- 
creased as  the  dinner-courses  multiplied. 

At  this  stage — just  as  the  snake-charmer  was  en- 
tering with  something  that  seemed  to  have  come 
to  an  untimely  end  in  wine-sauce — at  this  stage  the 
Commodore  turned  to  us  as  though  he  were  about 
to  give  some  order  that  we  might  disregard  at  the 
peril  of  our  lives — these  sea-dogs  never  quite  out- 
grow that  sort  of  thing.  "  Gentlemen, ' '  said  he, 
casting  a  watchful  and  suspicious  eye  over  the 
weather-bow,  "there  is  to  be  a  Luou — a  native  feast 
— in  the  adjoining  premises.  Will  you  do  me  the 


276  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

honor  to  accompany  me  thither  after  we  have 
lighted  our  cigars  ?  " 

I  forget  what  answer  we  made ;  but  then  dinner 
was  well  on  toward  dessert,  and  our  answer  was  im- 
material. We  had  our  orders,  couched  in  courteous 
language,  and  we  were  thankful  for  this  consider- 
ation ;  moreover,  we  were  wild  to  see  a  native  feast  1 
There  is  a  peculiar  charm  in  obeying  our  superiors, 
when  we  happen,  by  some  dispensation  of  Divine 
Providence,  to  be  exactly  of  the  same  mind. 

Black  coffee  was  offered  us,  in  cups  of  the  pattern 
of  gulls'  eggs.  By  this  time  all  the  sky  was  saffron, 
all  the  sea  a  shadow  of  saffron,  and  in  the  golden  haze 
that  lay  between,  a  schooner  with  a  piratical  slant 
to  her  masts  swam  by,  beyond  the  foam  that  hissed 
along  the  reef.  It  was  a  wonderful  picture,  but  it 
came  in  between  the  courses  of  the  Commodore's 
dinner  as  though  it  were  nothing  better  than  a 
panel-painting  in  the  after-cabin  of  the  What-you- 
call-her.  However,  as  she  swung  in  toward  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor  and  passed  a  bottle  of  Bur- 
gundy in  safety,  but  seemed  in  imminent  danger 
of  missing  stays  abreast  of  an  enormous  pyramid 
of  fruit — from  the  Commodore's  point  of  sight,  you 
know — the  old  gentleman  lost  his  temper  and  gave 
an  order  in  such  peremptory  terms  that  I  cheerfully 
refrain  from  reproducing  it  on  this  occasion.  To 
cover  our  confusion  we  immediately  adjourned  to 
the  native  feast. 

Hawaiian  feast-days  are  not  set  down  in  the  calen- 
dar. Somebody's  child  has  a  birthday,  or  there  is 


LOVE-LIFE  IN  A    LAN'AI  2/7 

a  new  house  that  needs  christening  ;  or  perhaps  a 
church  is  in  want,  and  the  feast  can  net  a  hundred  or 
two  dollars  for  it — since  all  the  eatables  in  such  cases 
are  donated,  and  the  eaters  enter  to  the  feast  with 
the  payment  of  one  dollar  per  head.  Our  feast  was 
not  sanctified  ;  a  chief  of  the  best  blood  was  in  the 
humor  to  entertain  his  friends,  countrymen,  and 
lovers.  We  belonged  to  the  first  order  ;  or,  rather, 
the  Commodore  was  his  friend,  and  we  speedily  be- 
came as  friendly  as  possible.  As  we  entered  the 
premises,  it  appeared  to  us  that  half  the  island  was 
under  cover  ;  for  limitless  Lanais  seemed  to  run  on 
to  the  end  of  time  in  bewitching  vistas.  Numberless 
lanterns  swung  softly  in  the  evening  gale.  A  multi- 
tude of  white-robed  native  girls  passed  to  and  fro, 
with  that  inimitable  grace  which  I  have  always  sup- 
posed Eve  copied  from  the  serpent  and  imparted  to 
her  daughters,  who  still  affect  the  modern  Edens  of 
the  earth.  Young  Hawaiian  bloods  clad  in  snow- 
white  trousers  and  ballet-shirts,  with  wreaths  of 
mailne  around  their  necks  and  ginger- flowers  in  their 
hair,  grouped  themselves  along  the  evergreen  cor- 
ridors, and  looked  unutterable  things  without  any 
noticeable  effort  on  their  part. 

Through  the  central  corridor,  under  a  long  line  of 
lanterns,  was  spread  the  corporeal  feast,  and  on 
either  side  of  it,  in  two  ravenous  lines,  sat,  tailor- 
fashion,  the  hungry  and  the  thirsty.  It  is  useless 
to  attempt  an  idealization  of  the  Hawaiian  eater. 
He  simply  devours  whatever  suits  his  palate,  as 
though  he  were  a  packing-case  that  needed  filling, 


2/8  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

and  the  sooner  filled  the  more  creditable  the  per- 
formance. But  the  amount  of  filling  that  he  is  equal 
to  is  the  marvel  ;  and  the  patient  perseverance  of 
the  man,  so  long  as  there  is  a  crumb  left,  is  some- 
thing that  I  despair  of  reconciling  with  any  known 
system  of  physiology.  The  mastication  began  early 
in  the  afternoon.  It  was  8  P.M.  when  we  looked  in 
upon  the  orgy,  and  the  bones  were  not  all  picked, 
though  they  seemed  likely  to  be  before  midnight. 

"  Will  you  eat  ?  "  said  the  host.  It  was  not  eti- 
quette to  decline,  and  we  sat  at  the  end  of  the 
Lanai,  with  nameless  dishes  strewn  about  us  in 
hopeless  confusion.  We  dipped  a  finger  into  pink 
poi,  and  took  a  pinch  of  baked  dog.  We  had  lim- 
pets with  rock-salt ;  kukui-nuts  roasted  and  pulver- 
ized ;  and  the  pale,  quivering  bits  of  fish-flesh,  not 
an  hour  dead,  and  still  cool  with  the  native  coolness 
of  the  sea.  It  was  a  fishful  feast  anyway  ;  and  not 
even  the  fruits  or  the  flowers  could  entirely  alleviate 
the  inward  agony  consequent  upon  a  morsel  of 
raw  fish,  swallowed  to  please  our  host. 

There  was  music  at  the  farther  end  of  the  palm- 
leaf  pavilion,  and  thither  we  wended  our  way.  The 
inner  court  was  festooned  with  flags,  and  covered 
with  a  large  mat.  Upon  the  mat  sat,  or  reclined, 
several  chiefesses.  I  am  never  able  to  account  for 
the  audacious  grace  of  these  women,  who  throw 
themselves  upon  the  floor  and  stretch  their  sup- 
ple limbs  like  tigresses,  with  a  kind  of  imperial 
scorn  for  your  one-horse  proprieties.  Their  volumi- 
nous light  garments  scarcely  concealed  the  ample 


LOVE-LIFE  IN1  A   LANAI 

curves  of  their  bodies,  and  the  marvellous  creatures 
seemed  to  be  breathing  to  slow  music,  while  their 
slumberous  eyes  regarded  us  with  a  gentle  indiffer- 
ence that  was  more  tantalizing  than  any  other  spe- 
cies of  coquetry  that  I  have  knowledge  of. 

At  one  side  of  the  enclosure  sat  a  group  of  musi- 
cians, twanging  upon  native  harps,  and  beating  the 
national  calabash.  Song  after  song  was  sung,  pipe 
after  pipe  was  smoked,  and  bits  of  easy  and  play- 
ful conversation  filled  the  intervals.  The  evening 
waned.  The  eaters  and  drinkers  were  still  unsatis- 
fied, because  the  eatables  and  drinkables  were  not 
exhausted  ;  but  the  moon  was  high  and  full,  and  the 
reef  moaned  most  musically,  and  seemed  to  invite 
us  to  the  shore. 

The  great  charm  of  a  native  feast  is  the  entire  ab- 
sence of  all  formality.  Every  man  is  privileged  to 
seek  whom  his  heart  may  most  desire,  and  every 
woman  may  receive  him  or  reject  him  as  her  spirit 
prompts.  We  noticed  that  the  Commodore  was  un- 
easy. He  was  as  plump  as  a  seal,  and  the  crowd 
oppressed  him.  We  resolved  to  get  the  old  gentle- 
man out  of  his  misery,  and  proposed  an  immediate 
adjournment  to  the  beach.  The  inner  court  was 
soon  deserted,  and  our  little  party — which  now  em- 
braced, figuratively,  several  magnificent  chiefesses, 
as  well  as  the  primitive  Hawaiian  orchestra — moved 
in  silence  toward  the  sea.  The  long,  curving  beach 
glistened  and  sparkled  in  the  moonlight.  The  sea, 
within  the  reef,  was  like  a  tideless  river,  from  whose 
pellucid  depths,  where  the  coral  spread  its  wilder- 


280  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

ness  of  branches,  an  unearthly  radiance  was  reflected. 
A  fleet  of  slender  canoes  floated  to  and  fro  upon  the 
water,  and  beyond  them  the  creaming  reef  flashed 
like  a  girdle  of  silver,  belting  us  in  from  all  the 
world. 

The  crowning  luxury  of  savage  life  is  the  multi- 
tudinous bondsman  who  anticipates  your  every  wish, 
and  makes  you  blush  at  your  own  poverty  of  inven- 
tion by  his  suggestions  of  unimagined  joys.  Mats 
— broad,  sweet,  and  clean — lay  under  foot,  and  served 
our  purpose  better  than  Persian  carpets.  The  sea 
itself  fawned  at  our  feet,  and  all  the  air  was  shining 
and  soft  as  though  the  moon  had  dissolved  in  an 
ecstasy,  and  nothing  but  a  snap  of  cold  weather 
could  congeal  her  again.  Wherever  we  lay,  pillows 
were  mysteriously  slipped  under  our  heads,  and  the 
willingest  hands  in  the  world  began  an  involuntary 
performance  of  the  lomilomi.  Let  me  not  think 
upon  the  lomi-lomi,  for  there  is  none  of  it  within 
reach  ;  but  I  may  say  of  it,  that,  before  the  skilful 
and  magnetic  hands  of  the  manipulator  are  folded, 
every  nerve  in  the  body  is  seized  with  an  intense 
little  spasm  of  recognition,  and  dies  happy.  A 
dreamless  sleep  succeeds,  and  this  is  followed  by  an 
awakening  into  new  life,  full  of  proud  possibilities. 

We  were  lomi-lomied  to  the  murmurs  of  the  reef, 
and  during  the  intervals  of  consciousness  saw  an  im- 
promptu rehearsal  of  the  "  Naiad  Queen,"  in  operatic 
form.  The  dancing  girls,  being  somewhat  heated, 
had  plunged  into  the  sea,  and  were  complaining  to 
the  moon  in  a  chorus  of  fine  harmonies.  History 


LOVE-LIFE  IN  A   LANAI  28 1 

does  not  record  how  long  their  sea-song  rang  across 
the  waters.  I  know  that  we  dozed,  and  woke  to 
watch  a  silver  sail  wafted  along  the  vague  and 
shadowy  distance  like  a  phantom.  We  slept  again, 
and  woke  to  a  sense  of  silence,  broken  only  by  the 
unceasing  monody  of  the  reef ;  slept  and  woke  yet 
again  in  the  waning  light,  for  the  moon  had  sunk  to 
the  ragged  rim  of  an  old  crater,  and  seemed  to  have 
a  large  piece  bitten  out  of  her  glorious  disk.  Then 
we  broke  camp  by  the  shore — for  the  air  was  a  trifle 
chilly — and  withdrew  into  the  seclusion  of  the  Com- 
modore's Lanai,  where  we  threw  ourselves  into  ham- 
mocks and  swung  until  daybreak. 

In  those  days  we  fed  on  lotus-flowers.  Jack- 
ashore  lives  for  the  hour  only,  and  the  very  air  of 
such  a  latitude  breathes  enchantment.  I  believe 
we  bathed  before  sunrise,  and  then  went  regularly 
to  bed  and  slept  till  noon.  Such  were  the  Commo- 
dore's orders,  and  this  is  our  apology.  There  was 
a  breakfast  about  1  P.M.,  at  which  we  were  per- 
mitted to  appear  in  undress.  The  Commodore  set 
the  example  by  inviting  us  to  the  table  in  an  ex- 
traordinary suit  of  cream-colored  silk,  that  was 
suggestive  of  pajamas,  but  might  have  been  some 
Oriental  regalia  especially  designed  for  morning 
wear.  He  looked  like  a  ship  under  full  sail  rocking 
good-naturedly  in  a  dead  calm.  The  Commodore  was 
excessively  formal  at  first  sight — that  is,  just  before 
breakfast — but  his  heart  warmed  toward  mankind 
in  general,  and  his  guests  in  particular,  as  the  meal 
progressed.  Some  people  never  are  themselves  until 


282  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

they  have  broken  their  fast ;  they  are  so  cranky,  and 
seem  to  lack  ballast. 

The  snaky  steward  sloughed  his  clothes  twice  a 
day.  He  was  a  slim,  noiseless,  gliding  fellow  at 
breakfast,  but  he  was  positively  gorgeous  at  dinner. 
Of  course,  the  Commodore  had  ordered  this  nice 
distinction  in  the  temporal  affairs  of  his  servant,  for 
he  kept  everything  about  the  place  in  ship-shape, 
even  to  the  flying  of  his  private  signal  from  sunrise 
to  sunset  at  the  top  of  a  tall  staff,  that  rivalled  the 
royal  ensign  floating  from  a  similar  altitude  not  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  His  Majesty  has  a  summer 
palace  in  Wai-ki-ki,  and  it  has  been  whispered  that 
the  Commodore  refused  to  recognize  him,  and  never 
dipped  his  colors  as  the  King  cantered  by  in  a  light 
buggy  drawn  by  a  span  of  spanking  bays. 

After  breakfast  the  cribbage-board  was  produced, 
and  for  three  mortal  hours  the  Commodore  kept  his 
peg  on  the  steady  march.  At  cribbage  the  old  gentle- 
man was  expected  to  lose  his  temper.  He  stormed 
with  the  arrogance  of  a  veteran  card-player,  than 
whom  no  man  is  supposed  to  make  himself  more 
disagreeable  on  short  notice.  Lieutenant  Blank 
was  usually  the  victim,  but  he  deserved  it.  The 
true  story  of  Lieutenant  Blank — his  name  is  sup- 
pressed out  of  consideration  for  his  family — is  so 
common  in  tropical  seaports  that  I  do  not  hope  in 
this  epitome  to  offer  anything  novel.  The  Lieuten- 
ant was  a  typical  Jack-ashore.  He  had  twice  the 
mail  that  came  to  the  rest  of  us,  and  he  read  his 
love-lettera  to  the  mess  with  a  gusto.  He  boasted 


LOVE-LIFE  IN  A   LANA1  283 

fresh  victims  in  every  port,  and  gloried  in  his  lack 
of  principle.  It  did  not  surprise  me  at  all  that  the 
Lieutenant  had  shaken  his  mother.  In  fact,  under 
the  circumstances,  I  think  his  mother  would  have 
been  justified  in  shaking  him,  if  she  could  have  got 
her  hands  on  him.  In  the  love-light  of  the  Commo- 
dore's Lanai,  life  was  very  precious  to  this  particu- 
lar Jack-ashore.  To  him  a  Lanai  was  a  city  of  refuge, 
provided  by  an  all-wise  Commodore  for  those  fas- 
cinating lieutenants  who  were  pursued  by  the  chief 
women  of  the  tribe  ;  yet  he  loved  to  loiter  without  the 
walls  during  the  off-hours  from  cribbage.  No  man 
so  relished  the  lorn  i-lomi  ;  no  man,  except  the  native- 
born,  so  clamored  for  the  hula-hula ;  and  no  man, 
not  even  the  least  of  these,  forgot  himself  to  the  same 
alarming  extent  whenever  there  was  the  slightest 
provocation. 

Of  course,  he  met  a  chiefess  and  surrendered  ;  of 
course,  he  meant  in  time  to  crush  the  heart  that  pul- 
sated with  the  blood-royal.  He  simpered  and  tried 
to  turn  semi-savage,  and  was  simply  ridiculous.  He 
made  silly  speeches  in  the  worst  possible  Hawaiian, 
and  afforded  unlimited  amusement  to  the  women, 
who  are  wiser  in  their  dark  skins  than  the  children 
of  light.  He  tried  toeatpo*,  and  ruined  his  linen. 
He  suffered  himself  to  be  wreathed  and  garlanded, 
until  he  was  the  picture  of  a  sacrificial  calf.  He 
gave  gifts,  and  babbled  in  his  sleep.  But  in  the 
hour  when  his  triumph  seemed  inevitable  he  was 
beautifully  snubbed  by  his  supposed  victim.  The 
sirens  of  Scylla  are  a  match  for  any  mariner  who 


284  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

sails  with  unwadded  ears.  The  Lieutenant  cannot 
hope  to  hear  the  last  of  that  adventure,  though  the 
subject  is  never  broached  by  himself. 

If  we  had  dwelt  a  thousand  years  with  the  Com- 
modore, and  sipped  the  elixir  of  life  from  the  gourd 
that  hung  by  the  door  of  the  wine-closet,  I  suppose 
we  should  have  had  the  same  daily  and  nightly  expe- 
riences to  go  through  with,  barring  a  slight  variation 
in  the  little  matter  of  moonshine.  But  there  were 
orders  superior  to  the  Commodore's,  since  he  was  off 
active  duty,  and  these  orders  demanded  our  reap- 
pearance on  shipboard  at  an  early  hour  of  the  day 
following.  There  was  a  farewell  round  of  everything 
that  had  been  introduced  during  our  brief  stay  at 
Wai-ki-ki — dances,  songs,  sea-baths,  and  flirtations. 
The  moon  rose  later,  and  was  but  a  shadow  of  her 
former  self ;  but  the  stars  burned  brightly,  and  we 
could  still  trace  the  noiseless  flight  of  the  solitary 
sail  that  passed  like  a  spirit  over  the  dusky  sea. 

I  know  that  in  after  years,  whenever  I  come  with- 
in sound  of  surf  under  the  prickly  sunshine,  my 
fancy  will  conjure  up  a  picture  of  that  grass  cottage 
on  the  slope  of  a  dazzling  beach,  and  the  portly  form 
of  the  old  Commodore  stowed  snugly  in  the  spacious 
hollow  of  a  bamboo  settee,  drawn  up .  on  the  stocks, 
as  it  were,  for  repairs,  with  a  bandanna  spread  over 
his  face  and  a  dark-eyed  crouching  figure  beside  him 
fighting  mosquitoes  with  a  tuft  of  parrot-feathers.  No 
wonder  that  a  body-guard  of  some  kind  was  neces- 
sary, for  I  believe  that  the  old  Commodore's  veins  ran 
nothing  but  wine,  and  mosquitoes  are  good  tasters. 


LOVE-LIFE  IN  A   LANAI  28$ 

The  picture  would  not  be  complete  without  the 
attendant  houris,  and  with  their  image  comes  an 
echo  of  barbarous  chants  and  the  monotonous  thump 
of  the  tom-tom  ;  of  swaying  figures ;  of  supple 
wrists  ;  of  slender,  lascivious  hands  tossed  skilfully  in 
the  air,  seeking  to  interpret  their  pantomimic  dances, 
and  doing  it  with  remarkable  freedom  and  grace.  1 
shall  hear  that  one  song,  like  an  echo  eternally  re- 
peated— the  song  that  was  sung  by  ah1  the  lips  that 
had  skill  to  sing,  in  every  valley  under  the  Hawaiian 
sun.  I  remember  it  as  a  refrain  that  was  first  raised 
in  Honolulu,  but  for  the  copyright  of  which  the  re- 
spective residents  of  Hawaii  and  Nihau  would  will- 
ingly lay  down  their  lives  with  the  last  words  of  thd 
song  rattling  in  their  throats. 

"  PoH-anu,"  or  "  Cool-bosom,"  is  a  fair  specimen 
of  the  ballad  literature  of  Hawaii,  and  the  following 
free  translation  will  perhaps  give  a  suggestion  of  the 
theme.  "  Poli-anu  "  is  sung  by  the  old  and  decrepid, 
the  lame,  the  halt,  and  the  blind,  as  well  as  by  th« 
merest  children.  I  have  heard  it  carolled  by  a  soli- 
tary boy  tending  goats  upon  the  breezy  heights  ol 
Kaupo.  I  have  listened  to  it  in  the  market-place, 
where  a  chorus  of  a  dozen  voices  held  the  customei 
entranced.  In  the  high  winds  of  the  middle  channeJ 
the  song  is  raised,  as  the  schooner  lays  over  at  a  per- 
ilous angle,  and  ships  water  enough  to  dampen  thff 
ardor  of  most  singers.  It  is  sung  in  the  church-* 
porch,  by  the  brackish  well  in  the  desert,  under  the 
moonlit  palms,  and  everywhere  else.  It  cheers  the 
midnight  vigil  of  the  prisoner,  and  makes  glad  the 


286  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

heart  of  the  sorrowful.  It  is  altogether  useful  as  well 
as  ornamental,  and  the  Hawaiian  who  does  not  num- 
ber among  his  accomplishments  the  ability  to  sing 
"Poli-anu"  tolerably  well,  is  unworthy  of  the  name. 

POLI-ANU. 

Bosom,  here  is  love  for  you, 

0  bosom  cool  as  night ! 

How  you  refresh  me  as  with  dew — 
Your  coolness  gives  delight. 

Rain  is  cold  upon  the  hill, 

And  water  in  the  pool, 
Yet  all  my  frame  is  colder  still 

For  you,  O  bosom  cool. 

Face  to  face  beneath  a  bough 

1  may  not  you  embrace, 

But  feel  a  spell  on  breast  and  brow 
While  sitting  face  to  face. 

Thoughts  in  absence  send  a  thrill 

Like  touch  of  sweeter  air : 
I  sought  you,  and  I  seek  you  still, 
O  bosom  cool  and  fair  ! 

That  is  all  of  it ;  but  your  Hawaiian  turns  back 
and  begins  over  again,  until  he  has  enough. 

I  suppose  it  is  no  breach  of  confidence  on  my  part 
to  state  that  the  gorgeous  old  Commodore  is  dead. 
There  was  nothing  in  his  Lanai  life  to  die  of,  except 
an  accident,  and  in  course  of  time  he  met  with  one. 
I  forget  the  nature  of  it,  but  it  finished  him.  There 
was  wailing  for  three  mortal  days  in  the  solemn 


LOVE- LIFE  IN  A   LANAI  287 

shadow  of  the  Lanai ;  and  then  one  of  the  large, 
motherly  looking  creatures,  with  numberless  gauzy 
folds  in  a  dress  that  fell  straight  from  her  broad 
shoulders,  moved  in.  After  three  days  of  feasting, 
all  vestiges  of  the  Commodore's  atmosphere  had  dis- 
appeared from  the  premises.  I  fancy  she  always  felt 
at  home  there,  although  she  was  never  known  to 
open  her  lips  in  the  presence  of  the  Commodore's 
guests.  Life  was  a  little  more  intense  after  that. 
The  snaky  steward  disappeared,  without  any  sort  of 
warning.  I  have  always  believed  that  he  crawled 
under  some  rock,  and  laid  himself  away  in  a  coil ; 
that  he  will  sleep  for  a  century  or  so,  then  come 
out  in  his  real  character,  and  astonish  the  inhabi- 
tants with  his  length  and  his  slimness. 

Lieutenant  Blank  survives,  and  sails  the  stormy 
seas  on  a  moderate  salary,  the  major  portion  of 
which  he  turns  into  naval  buttons.  I  hear  from 
him  once  in  a  dog's  age.  He  is  first  at  Callao,  with 
a  daily  jaunt  into  Lima  ;  then  at  one  of  the  South 
Sea  paradises ;  next  at  Australia,  or  in  the  China 
Sea  ;  and  in  the  future — heaven  knows  where  !  He 
vibrates  between  the  two  hemispheres,  working  out 
his  time,  and  believing  himself  supremely  happy. 
I  doubt  not  that  he  is  happy,  being  about  as  selfish 
as  men  are  made. 

As  for  myself,  I  am  a  landsman.  After  all  that 
is  said,  the  sea  is  rather  a  bore,  you  know  ;  but  I 
do  not  forget  the  dreamy  days  of  calm  in  the  flower- 
ing equatorial  waters,  nor  the  troubled  days  of  storm. 
There  are  a  thousand-and-one  trifling  events  in  the 


288  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

fragmentary  experiences  of  the  seafarer  that  are  of 
more  importance  than  this  stray  leaf,  but  perhaps 
none  that  will  serve  my  purpose  better.  For  this 
yarn  is  as  fine-drawn  as  the  episodes  in  an  out-of- 
the-way  port — with  nothing  but  the  faint  odor  of 
its  fruits  a  little  overripe,  of  its  flowers  a  little  over- 
blown, and  a  general  sense  of  uncomfortable  warmth, 
to  give  it  individuality.  I  have  found  these  ex- 
periences excellent  memories  ;  for  though  the  dull 
"  waits "  between  the  acts  and  the  sluggishness  of 
the  action  at  best  are  a  little  dreary  at  times,  they  are 
forgotten,  together  with  most  disagreeable  matter. 
I'll  warrant  you,  Lieutenant  Blank,  strutting  his  little 
hour  between-decks,  or  in  the  fleeting  moments  of 
the  delectable  "dog-watch,"  muses  upon  the  past. 
When  he  has  aroused  the  fever  in  his  blood,  and  can 
no  longer  hold  his  tongue,  he  heaves  an  ominous 
sigh,  knits  his  brows,  and,  in  a  voice  that  quivers 
with  unaflected  emotion,  he  whispers  to  the  marines 
the  beguiling  romance  of  his  Love-life  in  a  Lanai. 


IN  A  TRANSPORT 


A  LITTLE  French  aspirant  de  marine,  with  an 
incipient  mustache,  said  to  me,  confiden- 
tially, "  Where  you  see  the  French  flag  you  see 
France !  "  We  were  pacing  to  and  fro  on  the  deck 
of  a  transport  that  swung  at  anchor  off  San  Fran- 
cisco, and,  as  I  looked  shoreward  for  almost  the  last 
time — we  were  to  sail  at  daybreak  for  a  southern 
cruise — I  hugged  my  Ollendorf  in  despair,  as  I 
dreamed  of  "  French  in  six  easy  lessons,"  without  a 
master,  or  a  tolerable  accent,  or  anything,  save  a 
suggestion  of  Babel  and  a  confusion  of  tongues  at 
sea. 

Thanaron,  the  aspirant  in  question,  embraced  me 
when  I  boarded  the  transport  with  my  baggage, 
treated  me  like  a  long-lost  brother  all  that  after- 
noon, and  again  embraced  me  when  I  went  ashore 
toward  evening  to  take  leave  of  my  household.  There 
was  something  so  impulsive  and  boyish  in  his  man- 
ner that  I  immediately  returned  his  salute,  and  with 
considerable  fervor,  feeling  that  kind  Heaven  had 
thrown  me  into  the  arms  of  the  exceptional  foreigner 
who  would,  to  a  certain  extent,  console  me  for  the 
loss  of  my  whole  family.  The  mystery  that  hangs 
over  the  departure  of  any  craft  that  goes  by  wine* 


2QO  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

is  calculated  to  appal  the  landsman ;  and  when  the 
date  of  sailing  is  fixed  the  best  thing  he  can  do  is  to 
go  aboard  in  season  and  compose  his  soul  in  peace. 
To  be  sure,  he  may  swing  an  anchor  for  a  day  or 
two,  in  full  sight  of  the  domestic  circle  that  he  has 
shattered ;  but  he  is  spared  the  repetition  of  those 
last  agonies,  and  cuts  short  the  unravelling  hours 
just  prior  to  a  separation  which  are  probably  the 
most  unsatisfactory  in  life. 

Under  cover  of  darkness  a  fellow  can  do  almost 
anything,  and  I  concluded  to  go  on  board.  There 
was  a  late  dinner  and  a  parting  toast  at  home,  and 
those  ominous  silences  in  the  midst  of  a  conversa- 
tion that  was  as  spasmodic  and  disconnected  and 
unnatural  as  possible.  There  was  something  on  our 
minds,  and  we  relapsed  in  turn  and  forgot  ourselves 
in  the  fathomless  abysses  of  speculation.  Someone 
saw  me  off  that  night — someone  who  will  never 
again  follow  me  to  the  sea,  and  welcome  me  on  my 
return  to  earth  after  my  wandering.  We  sauntered 
down  the  dark  streets  along  the  city  front,  and  tried 
to  disguise  our  motives,  but  it  was  hard  work.  Pres- 
ently we  heard  the  slow  swing  of  the  tide  under  us, 
and  the  musty  odor  of  the  docks  regaled  us  ;  one  or 
two  shadows  seemed  to  be  groping  about  in  the 
neighborhood,  making  more  noise  than  a  shadow  has 
any  right  to  make. 

Then  came  the  myriad-masted  shipping,  the  twin- 
kling lights  in  the  harbor,  and  a  sense  of  ceaseless 
motion  in  waters  that  never  can  be  still.  We  did 
not  tarry  there  long.  The  boat  was  bumping  her 


IN  A    TRANSPORT  2QI 

bow  against  a  pair  of  slippery  stairs  that  led  down 
to  the  water,  and  I  entered  the  tottering  thing  that 
half  sunk  under  me,  dropped  into  my  seat  in  the 
stern,  and  tried  to  call  out  something  or  other  as 
we  shot  away  from  the  place,  with  a  cloud  over  my 
eyes  that  was  darker  than  night  itself,  and  a  cloud 
over  my  heart  that  was  as  heavy  as  lead.  After  that 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  climb  up  one  watery 
swell  and  slide  down  on  the  other  side  of  it,  to 
count  the  shadow-ships  that  shaped  themselves  out 
of  chaos  as  we  drew  near  them,  and  dissolved  again 
when  we  had  passed ;  while  the  oars  seemed  to 
grunt  in  the  row-locks,  and  the  two  jolly  tars  in 
uniform — they  might  have  been  mutes,  for  all  I 
know — swung  to  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  dragging 
me  over  the  water  to  my  "  ocean  bride  " — I  think 
that  is  what  they  call  a  ship,  when  the  mood  is  on 
them! 

She  did  look  pretty  as  we  swam  up  under  her. 
She  looked  like  a  great  silhouette  against  the  steel- 
gray  sky  ;  but  within  was  the  sound  of  revelry,  and 
I  hastened  on  board  to  find  our  little  cabin  blue  with 
smoke,  which,  however,  was  scarcely  dense  enough 
to  muffle  the  martial  strains  of  the  Marseillaise,  as 
shouted  by  the  whole  mess. 

Thanaron — my  Thanaron — was  in  the  centre  of 
the  table,  with  his  curly  head  out  of  the  transom — 
not  that  he  was  by  any  means  a  giant,  but  we  were 
all  a  little  cramped  between-decks — and  he  was 
leading  the  chorus  with  a  sabre  in  one  hand  and  the 
head  of  the  Doctor  in  the  other.  Without  the  sup- 


292  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

port  of  the  faculty  he  would  probably  not  have 
ended  his  song  of  triumph  as  successfully  as  he 
ultimately  did,  when  Nature  herself  had  fainted 
from  exhaustion.  It  was  the  last  night  in  port,  a 
few  friends  from  shore  had  come  to  dine,  and  black 
coffee  and  cognac  at  a  late  hour  had  finished  the 
business. 

If  there  is  one  thing  in  this  world  that  astonishes 
me  more  than  another,  it  is  the  rapidity  with  which 
some  people  talk  in  French.  Thanaron's  French, 
when  he  once  got  started,  sounded  to  me  like  the 
well-executed  trill  of  a  prima  donna,  and  quite  as 
intelligible.  The  joke  of  it  was,  that  Frenchmen 
seemed  to  find  no  difficulty  in  understanding  him 
at  his  highest  speed.  On  the  whole,  perhaps,  this 
fact  astonishes  me  more  than  the  other. 

Dinner  was  as  far  over  as  it  could  get  without  be- 
ginning again  and  calling  itself  breakfast ;  so  the 
party  broke  up  in  a  whirlwind  of  patriotic  songs, 
and,  one  by  one,  we  dropped  our  guests  over  the 
side  of  the  vessel  until  there  was  none  left,  and  then 
we  waved  them  a  thousand  adieus,  and  kept  up  the 
last  words  as  long  as  we  could  catch  the  faintest 
syllable  of  a  reply.  There  were  streaks  of  dull  red 
in  the  east  by  this  time,  and  the  outlines  of  the  city 
were  again  becoming  visible.  This  I  dreaded  a  lit- 
tle ;  and  when  our  boat  had  returned  and  every- 
thing was  put  in  ship-shape,  I  deliberately  dropped 
a  tear  in  the  presence  of  my  messmates,  who  were 
overcome  with  emotion  at  the  spectacle  ;  and,  having 
all  embraced,  we  went  below,  where  I  threw  myself, 


IN  A   TRANSPORT  293 

with  some  caution,  into  my  hammock   and  slept 
until  broad  daylight. 

I  did  not  venture  on  deck  again  until  after  our 
first  breakfast — an  informal  one,  that  set  uneasily 
on  the  table,  and  seemed  inclined  to  make  its  escape 
from  one  side  or  the  other.  Of  course  we  were 
well  under  way  by  this  time.  I  was  assured  of  the 
fact  by  the  reckless  rolling  of  the  vessel  and  the 
strange  and  unfamiliar  feeling  in  my  stomach,  as 
though  it  were  some  other  fellow's  stomach,  and  not 
my  own.  My  legs  were  a  trifle  uncertain  ;  my  head 
was  queer.  Everybody  was  rushing  everywhere  and 
doing  things  that  had  to  be  undone  or  done  over 
again  in  the  course  of  the  next  ten  minutes.  I  con- 
cluded to  pace  the  deck,  which  is  probably  the  cor- 
rect thing  for  a  man  to  do  when  he  goes  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships,  and  does  business — you  could 
hardly  call  it  pleasure — on  great  waters. 

I  went  up  the  steep  companion-way,  and  found  a 
deck-load  of  ropes,  and  the  entire  crew — dressed  in 
blue  flannel,  with  broad  collars — skipping  about  in 
the  most  fantastic  manner.  It  was  like  a  ballet 
scene  in  "L'Africaine,"  and  highly  diverting — for  a 
few  minutes !  From  my  stronghold  on  the  top  stair 
of  the  companion-way  I  cast  my  eye  shoreward. 
The  long  coast  ran  down  the  horizon  under  a  broad- 
side of  breakers  that  threatened  to  ingulf  the  con- 
tinent ;  the  air  was  gray  with  scattering  mist ;  the 
sea  was  much  disturbed  and  of  that  ugly,  yellow- 
ish green  tint  that  signifies  soundings.  Overhead, 
a  few  sea-birds  whirled  in  disorder,  shrieking  as. 


294  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

though  their  hearts  would  break.  It  looked  omi- 
nous, yet  I  felt  it  my  duty,  as  an  American  under 
the  shadow  of  the  tricolor,  to  keep  a  stiff  upper  lip 
— and  I  flatter  myself  that  I  did  so.  Figuratively 
speaking,  I  balanced  myself  in  the  mouth  of  the 
companion-way,  with  a  bottle  of  claret  in  one  pocket 
and  a  French  roll  in  the  other,  while  I  brushed  the 
fog  from  my  eyes  with  the  sleeve  of  my  monkey- 
jacket,  and  exclaimed  with  the  bard,  "My  native 
land,  good-night." 

It  was  morning  at  the  time,  but  I  did  not  seem  to 
care  much.  In  fact,  time  is  not  of  the  slightest  con- 
sequence on  shipboard.  So  I  withdrew  to  my  ham- 
mock, and  having  climbed  into  it  in  safety  ended 
the  day  after  a  miserable  fashion  that  I  have  de- 
plored a  thousand  times  since,  during  the  prouder 
moments  of  my  life. 

A  week  passed  by — I  suppose  it  was  a  week,  for  I 
could  reckon  only  seven  days,  and  seven  nights  of 
about  twice  the  length  of  the  days — during  that  in- 
terval ;  yet  I  should,  in  the  innocence  of  my  heart, 
have  called  it  a  month  without  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion. We  arose  late  in  the  morning —those  of  us 
who  had  a  watch  below ;  ate  a  delightfully  long  and 
narrow  breakfast,  consisting  of  an  interminable  pro- 
cession of  dishes  in  single  file  ;  paced  the  deck  and 
canvassed  the  weather  ;  went  below  to  read,  but 
talked  instead  ;  dined  as  we  had  breakfasted,  only 
in  a  far  more  elaborate  and  protracted  manner, 
while  a  gentle  undercurrent  of  side-dishes  lent  in- 
terest to  the  occasion.  There  was  a  perpetual 


IN  A    TRANSPORT  2$$ 

stream  of  conversation  playing  over  the  table,  from 
the  moment  that  heralded  the  soup  until  the  last 
drop  of  black  coffee  was  sopped  up  with  a  bit  of  dry 
bread.  By  the  time  we  had  come  to  cheese,  every- 
body  felt  called  upon  to  say  his  say,  in  the  face  of 
everybody  else.  I  alone  kept  my  place,  and  held  it 
because  the  heaviest  English  I  knew  fell  feebly  to 
the  floor  before  the  thunders  of  those  five  prime 
Frenchmen,  who  were  flushed  with  enthusiasm  and 
good  wine.  I  dreamed  of  home  over  my  cigarette, 
and  tried  to  look  as  though  I  were  still  interested 
in  life,  when,  Heaven  knows,  my  face  was  more  like 
a  half-obliterated  cameo  of  despair  than  anything 
human.  Thanaron,  my  foreign  affinity,  now  and 
then  threw  me  a  semi-English  nut  to  crack,  but  by 
the  time  I  had  recovered  myself — it  is  rather  em- 
barrassing to  be  assaulted  even  in  the  most  friendly 
manner  with  a  batch  of  broken  English — by  the 
time  I  had  framed  an  intelligible  response,  Thanaron 
was  in  the  heat  of  a  fresh  argument,  and  keeping 
up  a  running  fire  of  small  shot  that  nearly  floored 
the  mess. 

But  there  is  an  end  even  to  a  French  dinner,  and 
we  ultimately  adjourned  to  the  deck,  where,  about 
sunset,  everybody  took  his  station  while  the  Ange- 
lus  was  said.  Then  twilight,  with  a  subdued  kind 
of  skylarking  in  the  forecastle,  and  genteel  merri- 
ment amidships,  while  Monsieur  le  Capitaine  paced 
the  high  quarter-deck  with  the  shadow  of  a  smile 
crouching  between  the  fierce  jungles  of  his  intensely 
black  side-whiskers.  Ah,  sir,  it  was  something  to 


296  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

be  at  sea  in  a  French  transport  with  the  tricolor 
flaunting  at  the  peak  ;  to  have  four  guns  with  their 
mouths  gagged,  and  oilcloth  capes  lashed  snugly 
over  them  ;  to  see  everybody  in  uniform,  each  hav- 
ing the  profoundest  respect  for  those  who  ranked  a 
notch  above  him,  and  having,  also,  an  ill-disguised 
contempt  for  the  unlucky  fellow  beneath  him  !  This 
spirit  was  observable  from  one  end  of  the  ship  to 
the  other,  and,  sirs,  we  had  a  little  world  of  our 
own  revolving  on  a  wabbling  axis  between  the 
stanch  ribs  of  the  old  transport  Chevert. 

We  were  bound  for  Tahiti,  God  willing  and  the 
winds  favorable  ;  and  the  common  hope  of  ulti- 
mately finding  port  in  that  paradise  is  all  that  held 
us  together  through  thick  and  thin.  We  might 
wrangle  at  dinner,  and  come  to  breakfast  next 
morning  with  bitterness  in  our  hearts ;  we  might 
sink  into  the  bottomless  pit  of  despond  ;  we  might 
revile  Monsieur  le  Capitaine  and  Monsieur  le  Cuisi- 
nier,  including  in  our  anathemas  the  elements  and 
some  other  things ;  they  (the  Frenchmen)  might 
laugh  to  scorn  the  great  American  people — and 
they  did  it,  two  or  three  times — and  I,  in  my  turn, 
might  feel  a  secret  contempt  for  Paris,  without  hav- 
ing the  power  to  express  the  same  in  tolerable 
French,  so  I  felt  it  and  held  my  tongue.  Even 
Thanaron  gave  me  a  French  shrug  now  and  then 
that  sent  the  cold  shivers  through  me  ;  but  there 
was  sure  to  come  a  sunset  like  a  sea  of  fire,  at  which 
golden  hour  we  were  marshalled  amidships,  and 
stood  with  uncovered  heads  and  the  soft  light  play- 


Iff  A   TRANSPORT  297 

ing  over  us,  while  the  littlest  French  boy  in  the 
crew  said  the  evening  prayer  with  exceeding  sweet- 
ness— being  the  youngest,  he  was  the  most  worthy  of 
saying  it — and  then  we  all  crossed  ourselves,  and 
our  hearts  melted  within  us. 

There  was  something  in  the  delicious  atmosphere, 
growing  warmer  every  day,  and  something  in  the 
delicious  sea,  that  was  beginning  to  rock  her  float- 
ing gardens  of  blooming  weed  under  our  bows,  and 
something  in  the  aspect  of  Monsieur  le  Capitaine, 
with  his  cap  off  and  a  shadow  of  prayer  softening 
his  hard,  proud  face,  that  unmanned  us;  so  we 
rushed  to  our  own  little  cabin  and  hugged  one 
another,  lest  we  should  forget  how  when  we  were 
restored  to  our  sisters  and  our  sweethearts,  and 
everything  was  forgiven  and  forgotten  in  one  in- 
tense moment  of  French  remorse. 

Who  took  me  in  his  arms  and  carried  me  the 
length  of  the  cabin  in  three  paces,  at  the  imminent 
peril  of  my  life  ?  Thanaron  !  Who  admired  Tha- 
naron's  gush  of  nature,  and  nearly  squeezed  the  life 
out  of  him  in  the  vain  hope  of  making  their  joy 
known  to  him  ?  Everybody  else  in  the  mess !  Who 
looked  on  in  bewilderment,  and  was  half  glad  and 
half  sorry,  though  more  glad  than  sorry  by  half,  and 
wondered  all  the  while  what  was  coming  next  ? 
Bless  you,  it  was  I  !  And  we  kept  doing  that  sort 
of  thing  until  I  got  very  used  to  it,  and  by  the  time 
we  sighted  the  green  summits  of  Tahiti,  my  range 
of  experience  was  so  great  that  nothing  could  touch 
me  further.  It  may  be  that  we  were  not  governed  by 


298  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

the  laws  of  ordinary  seafarers.  The  Ghevert  was 
shaped  a  little  like  a  bath-tub,  with  a  bow  like  a 
duck's  breast,  and  a  high,  old-fashioned  quarter- 
deck, resembling  a  Chinese  junk  with  a  reef  in  her 
stern.  Forty  bold  sailor-boys,  who  looked  as  though 
they  had  been  built  on  precisely  the  same  model 
and  dealt  out  to  the  government  by  the  dozen, 
managed  to  keep  the  decks  very  clean  and  tidy,  and 
the  brass-work  in  a  state  of  dazzling  brightness. 
The  ship  was  wonderfully  well  ordered.  I  could 
tell  you  by  the  sounds  on  deck,  while  I  swung  in 
the  comfortable  seclusion  of  my  hammock,  just  the 
hour  of  the  day  or  night,  but  that  was  after  I  had 
once  learned  the  order  of  events.  There  was  the 
Sunday,  morning  inspection,  the  Wednesday  sham 
naval  battle,  the  prayers  night  and  morning,  and  the 
order  to  shorten  sail  each  evening.  Between  times 
the  decks  were  scrubbed  and  the  whole  ship  reno- 
vated ;  sometimes  the  rigging  was  darkened  with 
drying  clothes,  and  sometimes  we  felt  like  ancient 
mariners,  the  sea  was  so  oily  and  the  air  so  hot  and 
still.  There  was  nothing  stirring  save  the  sea-birds, 
who  paddled  about  like  tame  ducks,  and  the  faint, 
thin  thread  of  smoke  that  ascended  noiselessly  from 
the  dainty  rolls  of  tobacco  in  the  fingers  of  the  en- 
tire ship's  crew.  In  fact,  when  we  moved  at  all  in 
these  calm  waters,  we  seemed  to  be  propelled  by 
forty-cigarette  power,  for  there  was  not  a  breath  of 
air  stirring. 

It  was  at  such  times  that  we  fought  our  bloodless 
battles.     The  hours  were  ominous ;    breakfast  did 


IN  A    TRANSPORT  299 

not  seem  half  a  breakfast,  because  we  hurried 
through  it  with  the  dreadful  knowledge  that  a  con- 
flict was  pending,  and  possibly — though  not  prob- 
ably— we  might  never  gather  at  that  board  again  ; 
for  a  naval  engagement  is  something  terrible,  and 
life  is  uncertain  in  the  fairest  weather.  Breakfast  is 
scarcely  over  when  the  alarm  is  given,  and  with  the 
utmost  speed  every  Frenchman  flies  to  his  post. 
Already  the  horizon  is  darkened  with  the  Prussian 
navy,  yet  our  confidence  in  the  stanch  old  Chevert, 
in  each  particular  soul  on  board,  and  in  our  un- 
daunted leader — Monsieur  le  Capitaine,  who  is  even 
now  scouring  the  sea  with  an  enormous  marine 
glass  that  of  itself  is  enough  to  strike  terror  to  the 
Prussian  heart — our  implicit  confidence  in  ourselves 
is  such  that  we  smilingly  await  the  approach  of  the 
doomed  fleet.  At  last  they  come  within  range  of 
our  guns,  and  the  conflict  begins.  I  am  unfortu- 
nately compelled  to  stay  beneath  the  hatches.  A 
sham  battle  is  no  sight  for  an  inexperienced  lands- 
man to  witness ;  and,  moreover,  I  would  doubtless 
get  in  the  way  of  the  frantic  crew,  who  seem  re- 
solved to  shed  the  last  drop  of  French  blood  in  be- 
half of  la  belle  France. 

Marine  engagements  are,  as  a  general  thing,  a 
great  bore.  The  noise  is  something  terrific  ;  ammu- 
nition is  continually  passed  up  through  the  transom 
over  our  dinner-table,  and  a  thousand  feet  are  rush- 
ing over  the  deck  with  a  noise  as  of  theatrical 
thunder.  The  engagement  lasts  for  an  hour  or  two. 
Once  or  twice  we  are  enveloped  in  sheets  of  flame. 


3OO  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

We  are  speedily  deluged  with  water,  and  the  con- 
flict is  renewed  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm. 
Again,  and  again,  and  again,  we  pour  a  broadside 
into  the  enemy's  fleet,  and  always  with  terrific  effect. 
We  invariably  do  ourselves  the  greatest  credit,  for, 
by  the  time  our  supplies  are  about  exhausted,  not  a 
vestige  of  the  once  glorious  navy  of  Prussia  remains 
to  tell  the  tale.  The  sea  is,  of  course,  blood-stained 
for  miles  around.  The  few  persistent  Prussians 
who  attempt  to  board  us  are  speedily  despatched, 
and  allowed  to  drop  back  into  the  remorseless  waves. 
A  shout  of  triumph  rings  up  from  our  triumphant 
crew,  and  the  play  is  over. 

Once  more  the  hatches  are  removed  ;  once  more 
I  breathe  the  sweet  air  of  heaven,  for  not  a  grain  of 
powder  has  been  burned  through  all  this  fearful 
conflict ;  once  more  my  messmates  rush  into  our 
little  cabin  and  regale  themselves  with  copious 
draughts  of  absinthe,  and  I  am  pressed  to  the  proud 
bosom  of  Thanaron,  who  is  restored  to  me  without 
a  scar  to  disfigure  his  handsome  little  body.  I  grew 
used  to  these  weekly  wars,  and  before  we  came  in 
sight  of  our  green  haven  there  was  not  a  Prussian 
left  in  the  Pacific.  It  is  impossible  that  any  nation, 
though  they  be  schooled  to  hardships,  could  hope  to 
survive  such  a  succession  of  disastrous  conflicts.  On 
the  whole,  I  like  sham  battles ;  they  are  deuced  ex- 
citing, and  they  don't  hurt. 

How  different,  how  very  different  those  sleepy 
days  when  we  were  drifting  on  toward  the  Marque- 
sas Islands  1  The  silvery  phaetons  darted  overhead 


IN  A    TRANSPORT  30 1 

like  day-stars  shooting  from  their  spheres.  The  sea- 
weed grew  denser,  and  a  thousand  floating  things — 
broken  branches  with  a  few  small  leaves  attached, 
the  husk  of  a  cocoa-nut,  or  straws  such  as  any  dove 
from  any  ark  would  be  glad  to  seize  upon — these 
gave  us  ample  food  for  speculation.  "Piloted  by 
the  slow  unwilling  winds,"  we  came  close  to  the 
star-lit  Nouka  Hiva,  and  shortened  sail  right  under 
its  fragrant  shadow.  It  was  a  glorious  night. 
There  was  the  subtile  odor  of  earth  in  the  warm 
faint  air,  and  before  us  that  impenetrable  shadow 
that  we  knew  to  be  an  island,  yet  whose  outlines 
were  traceable  only  by  the  obliterated  stars. 

At  sunrise  we  were  on  deck,  and  looking  westward 
saw  the  mists  melt  away  like  a  veil  swept  from 
before  the  face  of  a  dusky  Venus  just  rising  from 
the  waves.  The  island  seemed  to  give  out  a  kind 
of  magnetic  heat  that  made  our  blood  tingle.  We 
gravitated  toward  it  with  an  almost  irresistible  im- 
pulse. Something  had  to  be  done  before  we  yielded 
to  the  fascinations  of  this  savage  enchantress.  Our 
course  lay  to  the  windward  of  the  southeastern 
point  of  the  land ;  but,  finding  that  we  could  not 
weather  it,  we  went  off  before  the  light  wind  and 
drifted  down  the  northern  coast,  swinging  an  hour 
or  more  under  the  lee  of  some  parched  rocks,  eying 
the  "  Needles" — the  slender  and  symmetrical  peaks, 
so  called — and  then  we  managed  to  work  our  way 
out  into  the  open  sea  again,  and  were  saved. 

Valleys  lay  here  and  there,  running  back  from  the 
shore  with  green  and  inviting  vistas  ;  slim  waterfalls 


302  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

made  one  desperate  leap  from  the  clouds  and  buried 
themselves  in  the  forests  hundreds  of  feet  below, 
where  they  were  lost  forever.  Bain-clouds  hung 
over  the  mountains,  throwing  deep  shadows  across 
the  slopes  that,  but  for  11  is  relief,  would  have  been 
too  bright  for  the  sentimental  beauty  that  usually 
identifies  a  tropical  island. 

I  happened  to  know  something  about  the  place, 
and  marked  every  inch  of  the  scorching  soil  as  we 
floated  past  groves  of  rose-wood,  sandal-wood,  and 
a  hundred  sorts  of  new  and  strange  trees,  looking 
dark  and  velvety  in  the  distance ;  past  strips  of 
beach  that  shone  like  glass,  while  beyond  them  the 
cocoa-palms  that  towered  above  the  low  brown  huts 
of  the  natives  seemed  to  reel  and  nod  in  the  intense 
meridian  heat.  A  moist  cloud,  far  up  the  mountain, 
hung  above  a  serene  and  sacred  haunt,  and  under 
its  shelter  was  hidden  a  deep  valley,  whose  secret 
has  been  earned  to  the  ends  of  the  earth ;  for  Her- 
man Melville  has  plucked  out  the  heart  of  its  mys- 
tery, and  beautiful  and  barbarous  Typee  lies  naked 
and  forsaken. 

I  was  rather  glad  we  could  not  get  any  nearer  to 
it,  for  fear  of  dispelling  the  ideal  that  has  so  long 
charmed  me.  Catching  the  wind  again,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  we  lost  the  last  outline  of  Nouka  Hiva  in 
the  soft  twilight,  and  said  our  prayers  that  evening 
as  much  at  sea  as  ever.  Back  we  dropped  into  the 
solemn  round  of  uneventful  days.  Even  the  sham- 
battles  no  longer  thrilled  us.  In  fact,  the  whole 
affair  was  a  little  too  theatrical  to  bear  frequent  rep- 


IN  A    TRANSPORT  303 

etition.  There  was  but  one  of  our  mess  who  could 
muster  an  episode  whenever  we  became  too  stagnant 
for  our  health's  good,  and  this  was  our  first  officer 
— a  tall,  slim  fellow,  with  a  warlike  beard,  and  very 
soft,  dark  eyes,  whose  pupils  seemed  to  be  floating 
aimlessly  about  under  the  shelter  of  long  lashes. 
His  face  was  in  a  perpetual  dispute  with  itself,  and 
I  never  knew  which  was  the  right  or  the  wrong  side 

of  him.     B was  the  happy  possessor  of  a  tight 

little  African,  known  as  Nero,  although  I  always 
looked  upon  him  as  so  much  Jamaica  ginger.  Nero 
was  as  handsome  a  specimen  of  tangible  darkness  as 

you  will  sight  in  a  summer's  cruise.     B loved 

with  the  ardor  of  his  vacillating  eyes,  yet  governed 
with  the  rigor  of  his  beard.  Nero  was  consequently 
prepared  for  any  change  in  the  weather,  no  matter 
how  sudden  or  uncalled  for.  In  the  equatorial  seas, 
while  we  sailed  to  the  measure  of  the  Ancient  Mari- 
ner, B summoned  Nero  to  the  sacrifice,  and, 

having  tortured  him  to  the  extent  of  his  wits,  there 
was  a  reconciliation  more  ludicrous  than  any  other 
scene  in  the  farce.  It  was  at  such  moments  that 

B 's  eyes  literally  swam,  when  even  his  beard 

wilted,  while  he  told  of  the  thousand  pathetic  eras 
in  Nero's  life,  when  he  might  have  had  his  liberty, 
but  found  the  service  of  his  master  more  beguiling  ; 

of  the  adventures  by  flood  and  field,  where  B 

was  distinguishing  himself,  yet  at  his  side,  through 
thick  and  thin,  struggled  the  faithful  Nero.  Thus 
B warmed  himself  at  the  fire  his  own  enthusi- 
asm had  kindled  on  the  altar  of  self-love,  and  every 


304  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

moment  added  to  his  fervor.  It  was  the  yellow  fe» 
ver,  and  the  cholera,  and  the  small-pox,  that  were 
powerless  to  separate  that  faithful  slave  from  the 
agonizing  bedside  of  his  master.  It  was  shipwreck 
and  famine,  and  the  smallest  visible  salary,  that 
seemed  only  to  strengthen  the  ties  that  bound  them 
the  one  to  the  other.  Death — cruel  death — alone 

could  separate  them  ;  and  B took  Nero  by  the 

throat  and  kissed  him  passionately  upon  his  sooty 
cheek,  and  the  floating  eyes  came  to  a  stand-still 
with  an  expression  of  virtuous  defiance  that  was  cal- 
culated to  put  all  conventionalities  to  the  blush. 
We  were  awed  by  the  magnanimity  of  such  conduct, 
until  we  got  thoroughly  used  to  it,  and  then  we 
were  simply  entertained.  We  kept  looking  forward 
to  the  conclusion  of  the  scene,  which  usually  fol- 
lowed in  the  course  of  half  an  hour.  B having 

fondled  Nero  to  his  heart's  content,  and  Nero  hav- 
ing become  somewhat  bored,  there  was  sure  to  arise 
some  mild  disturbance,  aggravated  by  both  parties, 

and  B ,  believing  he  had  endured  as  much  as  any 

Frenchman  and  first  officer  is  expected  to  endure 
without  resentment,  suddenly  rises,  and,  seizing 
Nero  by  the  short,  wiry  moss  of  his  scalp,  kicks  him 
deliberately  from  the  cabin,  and  returns  to  us,  burst- 
ing with  indignation.  This  domestic  equinox  we 
soon  grew  fond  of ;  and,  having  become  familiar  with 
all  its  signals  of  approach,  we  watched  with  agreea- 
ble interest  the  inevitable  climax.  It  was  well  for 
Nero  that  Nature  had  provided  against  any  change 
of  color  in  his  skin,  for  he  must  have  borne  the 


SAT  A    TRANSPORT  305 

sensation  of  his  chastisement  for  some  hours,  though 
he  was  unable  to  give  visible  expression  of  it.  By 
and  by  came  B 's  own  private  birthday.  Noth- 
ing had  been  said  of  it  at  table,  and,  in  fact,  noth- 
ing elsewhere,  that  I  remember  ;  but  Nero,  who  had 
survived  several  of  those  anniversaries,  bore  it  in 
mind,  and  our  dinner  was  something  gorgeous — to 
look  at !  Unhappily,  certain  necessary  ingredients 
had  been  unavoidably  omitted  in  the  concocting  of 
the  dessert,  ornamental  pastry  not  being  set  down 

in  our  regular  bill  of  fare  ;   but  B ate  of  pies 

that  were  built  of  chips,  and  of  puddings  that  were 
stuffed  with  sawdust,  until  I  feared  we  should  be 
called  upon  to  mourn  the  loss  of  a  first  officer  before 
morning. 

Moreover,  B insisted  that  everything  was  un- 
surpassed ;  and,  Heaven  be  thanked !  I  believe  the 
pastry  could  easily  lay  claim  to  that  distinction.  At 
any  rate,  never  before  or  since  have  I  laid  teeth  to 
such  a  Dead  Sea  dessert.  At  this  point,  B nat- 
urally called  Nero  to  him  and  thanked  him,  with 
moist  and  truthful  eyes,  and  the  ingenuous  little  Ja- 
maican dropped  a  couple  of  colorless  tears  that 
would  easily  have  passed  for  anybody's  anywhere. 
For  this  mutual  exhibition  of  sentiment  everyone 
of  us  was  duly  grateful,  and  we  never  afterward 

scorned  B for  his  eccentricities,  since  we  knew 

him  to  be  capable  of  genuine  feeling.  Moreover,  he 
nearly  died  of  his  birthday  feast,  yet  did  not  once 
complain  of  the  unsuspecting  cause  of  all  his  woe  ; 
who  was  at  his  side  night  and  day,  anticipating  all 
20 


306  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

his  wishes,  and  deploring  the  unaccountable  mis- 
fortunes of  his  master. 

So  the  winds  blew  us  into  the  warm  south  lati- 
tudes. I  was  getting  restless.  Perhaps  we  had 
talked  ourselves  out  of  legitimate  topics  of  conver- 
sation, and  were  forcing  the  social  element.  It  was 
tedious  beyond  expression,  passing  day  after  day 
within  sound  of  the  same  voices,  and  being  utterly 
unable  to  flee  into  never  so  small  a  solitude,  for 
there  was  not  an  inch  of  it  on  board.  Swinging  at 
night  in  my  hammock  between  decks,  wakefully 
dreaming  of  the  future  and  of  the  past,  again  and 
again  I  have  stolen  up  on  deck,  where  the  watch  lay 
in  the  moonlight,  droning  their  interminable  yarns 
and  smoking  their  perpetual  cigarettes — for  French 
sailors  have  privileges,  and  improve  them  with  a 
considerable  grace. 

It  was  at  such  times  that  the  wind  sung  in  the 
rigging,  with  a  sound  as  of  a  thousand  swaying 
branches  full  of  quivering  leaves — just  as  the  soft 
gale  in  the  garden  groves  suggests  pleasant  nights  at 
sea,  the  vibration  of  the  taut  stays,  and  the  rush  of 
waters  along  the  smooth  sides  of  the  vessel  A  ship's 
rigging  is  a  kind  of  sea-harp,  played  upon  by  the 
four  winds  of  heaven. 

The  sails  were  half  in  moonlight  and  half  in 
shadow.  Every  object  was  well  denned,  and  on  the 
high  quarter-deck  paced  Thanaron,  his  boyish  fig- 
ure looking  strangely  picturesque,  for  he  showed 
in  every  motion  how  deeply  he  felt  the  responsibil- 
ity of  his  office.  There  was  usually  a  faint  light  in 


IN  A    TRANSPORT  307 

the  apartments  of  Monsieur  le  Capitaine,  and  I 
thought  of  him  in  his  gold  lace  and  dignity,  poring 
over  a  French  novel,  or  cursing  the  light  winds.  I 
used  to  sit  upon  the  neck  of  a  gun — one  of  our 
four  dummies,  that  were  never  known  to  speak 
louder  than  a  whisper — lay  my  head  against  the 
moist  bulwarks,  and  listen  to  the  half-savage  chants 
of  the  Tahitian  sailors  who  helped  to  swell  our 
crew.  As  we  drew  down  toward  the  enchanted 
islands  they  seemed  fairly  bewitched,  and  it  was 
with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  they  could  keep  their 
mouths  shut  until  evening,  when  they  were  sure  to 
begin  intoning  an  epic  that  usually  lasted  through 
the  watch.  Sometimes  a  fish  leaped  into  the  moon- 
light, and  came  down  with  a  splash  ;  or  a  whale 
heaved  a  great  sigh  close  to  us,  and  as  I  looked  over 
the  bulwarks  I  would  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  old  fel- 
low just  going  down,  like  a  submerged  island.  Oc- 
casionally a  flying-fish  —  a  kind  of  tangible  moon- 
beam— fell  upon  deck,  and  was  secured  by  one  of 
the  sailors  ;  or  a  bird,  sailing  about  with  an  eye  to 
roosting  on  one  of  our  yards,  gave  a  plaintive,  omi- 
nous cry,  that  was  echoed  in  falsetto  by  two  or  three 
voices,  and  rung  in  with  the  Tahitian  cantata  of  island 
delights.  Even  this  sort  of  thing  lost  its  charm  after 
a  little.  Thanaron  could  not  speak  to  me,  because 
Thanaron  was  officer  of  the  deck  at  that  moment,  and 
Thanaron  himself  had  said  to  me,  "Order,  Mon- 
sieur, order  is  the  first  law  of  France !  "  I  had  al- 
ways supposed  that  heaven  had  a  finger  in  the  mak- 
ing of  that  law — but  it  is  all  the  same  to  a  Frenchman. 


308  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

Most  sea-days  have  a  tedious  family  resemblance, 
their  chief  characteristic  being  the  almost  total  ab- 
sence of  any  distinguishing  feature.  Fair  weather 
and  foul ;  sunlight,  moonlight,  and  starlight ;  mo- 
ments of  confidence  ;  oaths  of  eternal  fidelity  ;  plans 
for  the  future  long  enough  to  crowd  a  century  un- 
comfortably ;  relapses,  rows,  recoveries ;  then,  after 
many  days,  the  water  subsided,  and  we  saw  land  at 
last. 

Land,  God  bless  it !  Long,  low  coral  reefs,  with 
a  strip  of  garden  glorifying  them  ;  rocks  towering 
out  of  the  sea,  palm-crowned,  foam-fringed  ;  wreaths 
of  verdure  cast  upon  the  bosom  of  the  ocean,  forever 
fragrant  in  their  imperishable  beauty  ;  and  beyond 
and  above  them  all,  gorgeous  and  glorious  Tahiti. 

On  the  morning  of  the  thirty-third  day  out  there 
came  a  revelation  to  the  whole  ship's  company.  A 
faint  blue  peak  was  seen  struggling  with  the  billows  ; 
presently  it  seemed  to  get  the  better  of  them,  grow- 
ing broader  and  taller,  but  taking  hours  to  do  so. 
The  wind  was  stiff,  and  the  sea  covered  with  foam  ; 
we  rolled  frightfully  all  day.  Our  French  dinner 
lost  its  identity.  Soup  was  out  of  the  question  ;  we 
had  hard  work  to  keep  meat  and  vegetables  from 
total  wreck,  while  we  hung  on  to  the  legs  of  the 
table  with  all  our  strength.  How  the  old  Chevert 
"  bucked,"  that  day,  as  though  conscious  that  for 
months  to  come  she  would  swing  in  still  waters  by 
the  edge  of  green  pastures,  where  any  such  conduct 
would  be  highly  inappropriate. 

Every  hour  the  island  grew  more  and  more  beau. 


IN  A    TRANSPORT  309 

tiful,  as  though  it  were  some  lovely  fruit  or  flower, 
swiftly  and  magically  coming  to  maturity.  A  cen- 
tral peak,  with  a  tiara  of  rocky  points,  crowns  it 
with  majesty,  and  a  neighboring  island  of  great 
beauty  seems  its  faithful  attendant.  I  do  not  won- 
der that  the  crew  of  the  Bounty  mutinied  when  they 
were  ordered  to  make  sail  and  turn  their  backs  on 
Tahiti ;  nor  am  I  surprised  that  they  put  the  captain 
and  one  or  two  other  objectionable  features  into  a 
small  boat,  and  advised  them  to  continue  their  voy- 
age if  they  were  anxious  to  do  so  ;  but  as  for  them, 
give  them  Tahiti,  or  give  them  worse  than  death — 
and,  if  convenient,  give  them  Tahiti  straight,  and 
keep  all  the  rest  for  the  next  party  that  came  along. 

As  soon  as  we  were  within  hailing  distance  the 
pilot  came  out  and  took  us  under  his  wing.  We 
kissed  the  hand  of  a  citizen  of  the  new  world,  and, 
for  the  first  time  since  losing  sight  of  the  dear  Cali- 
fornia coast,  dismissed  it  from  our  minds.  There 
was  very  little  wind  right  under  the  great  green 
mountains,  so  the  frigate  Astrea  sent  a  dozen  boats 
to  tow  us  through  the  opening  in  the  reef  to  our 
most  welcome  anchorage.  No  Doge  of  Venice  ever 
cruised  more  majestically  than  we,  and  our  sea- 
pageant  was  the  sensation  of  the  day. 

"  Click-click "  went  the  anchor-chains  through 
the  hawse-holes,  down  into  a  deep,  sheltered  bowl 
of  the  sea,  whose  waters  have  never  yet  been  ruffled 
by  the  storms  that  beat  upon  the  coral  wall  around 
it.  Along  the  crescent  shores  trees  dropped  their 
yellow  leaves  into  the  water,  and  tried  their  best  to 


310  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

bury  the  slim  canoes  drawn  up  among  their  roots. 
Beyond  this  barricade  of  verdure  the  eye  caught 
glimpses  of  every  sort  of  tropical  habitation  imagin- 
able, together  with  the  high  roofs  and  ponderous 
white  walls  of  the  French  Government  buildings. 
The  foliage  broke  over  the  little  town  like  a  green 
sea,  and  every  possibility  of  a  good  view  of  it  was 
lost  in  the  inundation.  Above  it  towered  the  sub- 
lime crest  of  the  mountain,  with  a  strip  of  cloud 
about  its  middle  in  true  savage  fashion.  Perpetual 
harvest  lay  in  its  lap,  and  it  basked  in  the  smile  of 
God. 

Twilight,  fragrant  and  cool ;  a  fruity  flavor  in  the 
air,  a  flower-like  tint  in  sea  and  sky,  the  ship's  boat 
waiting  to  convey  us  shoreward.  .  .  .  O  Thana- 
ron,  my  Thanaron,  with  your  arms  about  my  neck, 

and  B 's  arms  about  you,  and  Nero  clinging  to 

his  master's  knees — in  fact,  with  everybody  felicitat- 
ing every  other  body,  because  it  was  such  an  even- 
ing as  descends  only  upon  the  chosen  places  of  the 
earth,  and  because,  having  completed  our  voyage  in 
safety,  we  were  all  literally  in  a  transport ! 


A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI 


LET  this  confession  be  topped  with  a  vignette 
done  in  broad,  shadowless  lines  and  few  of 
them — something  like  this  : 

A  little,  fly-blown  room,  smelling  of  garlic  ;  I  cool- 
ing my  elbows  on  the  oily  slab  of  a  table  (breakfast 
for  one),  and  looking  through  a  window  at  a  glar- 
ing whitewashed  fence  high  enough  to  shut  out  the 
universe  from  my  point  of  sight.  Yet  it  hid  not  all, 
since  it  brought  into  relief  a  panting  cock  (with  one 
leg  in  a  string),  which  had  so  strained  to  compress 
itself  into  a  doubtful  inch  of  shade  that  its  sus- 
pended claw  clutched  the  air  in  real  agony. 

Having  dazzled  my  eyes  with  this  prospect,  I 
turned  gratefully  to  the  vanities  of  life  that  may  be 
had  for  two  francs  in  Tahiti.  Vide  bill  of  fare  : 
One  fried  egg,  like  the  eye  of  some  gigantic  Albino ; 
potatoes  hollowed  out  bombshell  fashion,  primed 
with  liver-sausage,  very  ingenious  and  palatable  ; 
the  naked  corpse  of  a  fowl  that  cared  not  to  live 
longer,  from  appearances,  yet  looked  not  happy  in 
death. 

Item :  Wonder  if  there  is  a  more  ghastly  spec- 
tacle than  a  chicken  cooked  in  the  French  style  ;  its 
knees  drawn  up  on  its  breast  like  an  Indian  mummy, 


312  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

while  its  blue-black,  parboiled,  and  melancholy  vis- 
age tearfully  surveys  its  own  unshrouded  remains. 
After  a  brief  season  of  meditation  I  said,  and  I  trust 
I  meant  it,  "  I  thank  the  Lord  for  all  these  bless- 
ings." Then  I  gave  the  corpse  of  the  chicken 
Christian  burial  under  a  fold  of  the  window  curtain, 
disposed  of  the  fried  eye  of  the  Albino,  and  trans- 
formed myself  into  a  mortar  for  the  time  being, 
taking  potato-bombshells  according  to  my  calibre. 

There  was  claret  all  the  while  and  plenty  of  but- 
terless  roll,  a  shaving  of  cheese,  a  banana,  black 
coffee  and  cognac,  when  I  turned  again  to  dazzle 
myself  with  the  white  fence,  and  saw  with  infinite 
pity — a  sentiment  perhaps  not  unmixed  with  a  sus- 
picion of  cognac  or  some  other  temporary  human- 
izing element — I  saw  for  a  fact  that  the  poor  cock 
had  wilted,  and  lay  flat  in  the  sun  like  a  last  year's 
duster.  That  was  too  much  for  me.  I  wheeled  to- 
ward the  door  where  gleamed  the  bay  with  its 
lovely  ridges  of  light ;  canoes  drifting  over  it  drew 
the  eye  after  them  irresistibly ;  I  heard  the  ship- 
calkers  on  the  beach  making  their  monotonous  clat- 
ter, and  the  drone  of  the  bareheaded  fruit-sellers 
squatted  in  rows,  chatting  indolently,  with  their 
eyes  half  shut.  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  bees 
humming  over  their  own  sweet  wares. 

About  this  time  a  young  fellow  at  the  next  table, 
who  had  scarcely  a  mouthful  of  English  at  his  com- 
mand, implored  me  to  take  beer  with  him  ;  imply- 
ing that  we  might,  if  desirable,  become  as  tight  as 
two  bricks.  I  declined,  much  to  his  admiration, 


A  PRODIGAL  IN-  TAHITI  313 

he  regarding  my  refusal  as  a  clear  case  of  moral 
courage,  whereas  it  arose  simply  and  solely  from 
my  utter  inability  to  see  his  treat  and  go  him  one 
better. 

A  grown  person  in  Tahiti  has  an  eating  hour  al- 
lotted to  him  twice  a  day,  at  10  A.M.  and  5  P.M.  My 
time  being  up,  I  returned  to  the  store  in  an  indif- 
ferent frame  of  mind,  and  upon  entering  the  pres- 
ence of  my  employer,  who  had  arrived  a  moment 
before  me,  I  was  immediately  covered  with  the  deep 
humiliation  of  servitude  and  withdrew  to  an  ob- 
scure corner ;  while  Monsieur  and  some  naval  guests 
took  absinthe  unblushingly,  which  was,  of  course, 
proper  enough  in  them.  Call  it  by  what  name  you 
will,  you  cannot  sweeten  servility  to  my  taste.  Then 
why  was  I  there  and  in  bondage  ?  The  spirit  of  ad- 
venture that  keeps  life  in  us,  yet  comes  near  to  wor- 
rying it  out  of  us  now  and  then,  lured  me  with  my 
handful  of  dollars  to  the  Garden  of  the  Pacific. 
"  You  can  easily  get  work,"  said  someone  who  had 
been  there  and  didn't  want  it.  If  work  I  must,  why 
not  better  there  than  here  ?  thought  I ;  and  the  less 
money  I  take  with  me  the  surer  am  I  to  seek  that 
which  might  not  attract  me  under  other  circum- 
stances. A  few  letters  which  proved  almost  value- 
less ;  an  abiding  trust  in  Providence,  afterward 
somewhat  shaken,  I  am  sorry  to  state,  which  con- 
vinces me  that  I  can  no  longer  hope  to  travel  as  a 
shorn  lamb ;  considerable  confidence  in  the  good 
feeling  of  my  fellow-men,  together  with  the  few  dol- 
lars above  referred  to — comprised  my  all  when  I 


314  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

set  foot  on  the  leaf-strewn  and  shady  beach  of 
Papeete. 

Before  the  day  was  over  I  saw  my  case  was  almost 
hopeless  ;  I  was  one  too  many  in  a  very  meagre  con- 
gregation of  foreigners.  In  a  week  I  was  desperate, 
with  poverty  and  disgrace  brooding  like  evil  spirits 
on  either  hand.  Every  ten  minutes  someone  sug- 
gested something  which  was  almost  immediately 
suppressed  by  the  next  man  I  met,  to  whom  I  ap- 
plied for  further  information.  Teach,  said  one : 
there  wasn't  a  pupil  to  be  had  in  the  dominion. 
Clerkships  were  out  of  the  question  likewise.  I 
might  keep  store,  if  I  could  get  anything  to  put  in 
it ;  or  go  farther,  as  someone  suggested,  if  I  had 
money  enough  to  get  there.  I  thought  it  wiser  to 
endure  the  ills  I  had  than  fly  to  others  that  I  knew 
not  of.  In  this  state  I  perambulated  the  green 
lanes  of  Papeete,  conscious  that  I  was  drawing  down 
tons  of  immaterial  sympathy  from  hearts  of  various 
nationalities,  beating  to  the  music  of  regular  salaries 
in  hard  cash,  and  the  inevitable  ringing  of  their 
daily  dinner-bell ;  and  I  continued  to  perambulate 
under  the  same  depressing  avalanches  for  a  fort- 
night or  more — a  warning  to  the  generation  of  the 
inexperienced  that  persists  in  sowing  itself  broadcast 
upon  the  edges  of  the  earth,  and  learns  too  late  how 
hard  a  thing  it  is  to  take  root  under  the  circum- 
stances. 

One  gloomy  day  I  was  seized  in  the  market-place 
and  led  before  a  French  gentleman  who  offered  me 
a  bed  and  board  for  such  manual  compensation  as  I 


A   PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  315 

might  be  able  to  give  him  in  his  office  during  the 
usual  business  hours,  namely,  from  daybreak  to 
some  time  in  the  afternoon,  unless  it  rained,  when 
business  was  suspended,  and  I  was  dropped  until 
fair  weather  should  set  that  little  world  wagging 
again. 

I  was  invited  to  enter  into  the  bosom  of  his  family, 
in  fact,  to  be  one  of  them,  and  no  single  man  could 
ask  to  be  more ;  to  sit  at  his  table  and  hope  for 
better  days,  in  which  diversion  he  proposed  to  join 
me  with  all  his  soul. 

With  an  emotion  of  gratitude  and  a  pang  at  be- 
ing thus  early  a  subject  of  charity,  I  began  business 
in  Papeete,  and  learned  within  the  hour  how  sharper 
than  most  sharps  it  is  to  know  only  your  own 
mother-tongue  when  you're  away  from  home. 

Nightly  I  walked  two  hot  and  dusty  miles  through 
groves  of  bread-fruit  and  colonnades  of  palms  to 
my  new  master's.  I  skirted,  with  loitering  steps,  a 
placid  sea  whose  crystalline  depths  sheltered  leagues 
and  leagues  of  sun-painted  corals,  where  a  myriad 
fish,  dyed  like  the  rainbow,  sported  unceasingly. 
Springs  gushed  from  the  mountain,  singing  their 
song  of  joy  ;  the  winds  sang  in  the  dark  locks  of  the 
sycamore,  while  the  palm-boughs  clashed  like  cym- 
bals in  rhythmical  accompaniment;  glad  children 
chanted  their  choruses,  and  I  alone  couldn't  sing, 
nor  hum,  nor  whistle,  because  it  doesn't  pay  to  work 
for  your  board,  and  settle  for  little  necessities  out 
of  your  own  pocket,  in  any  latitude  that  I  ever 
heard  of. 


3l6  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

We  lived  in  a  grove  of  ten  thousand  cocoa-palms 
crowning  a  hill-slope  to  the  west.  How  all-sufficient 
it  sounds  as  I  write  it  now,  but  how  little  I  cared 
then,  for  many  reasons  !  My  cottage  had  prior  ten- 
ants, who  disputed  possession  with  me — winged 
tenants  who  sought  admission  at  every  cranny 
and  frequently  obtained  it  in  spite  of  me  ;  these 
were  not  angels,  but  hens.  My  cottage  had  been  a 
granary  until  it  got  too  poor  a  receptacle  for  grains, 
and  a  better  shelter  left  it  open  to  the  barn-fowls 
until  I  arrived.  They  hated  me,  these  hungry 
chickens ;  they  used  to  sit  in  rows  on  the  window- 
sill  and  stare  me  out  of  countenance.  A  wide  bed- 
stead, corded  with  thongs,  did  its  best  to  furnish  my 
apartment.  A  narrow,  a  very  narrow  and  thin 
ship's  mattress,  that  had  been  a  bed  of  torture  for 
many  a  sea-sick  soul  before  it  descended  to  me  ;  a 
flat  pillow  like  a  pancake  ;  a  condemned  horse- 
blanket  contributed  by  a  good-natured  Kanack  who 
raked  it  from  a  heap  of  refuse  in  the  yard,  together 
with  two  sacks  of  rice,  the  despair  of  those  hens  in 
the  window,  were  all  I  could  boast  of.  With  this 
inventory  I  strove  (by  particular  request)  to  be  one 
of  those  who  were  comfortable  enough  in  the  cha- 
teau adjoining.  Summoned  peremptorily  to  din- 
ner, I  entered  a  little  latticed  salon,  connected  with 
the  chateau  by  a  covered  walk,  discovered  Mon- 
sieur seated  at  table  and  already  served  with  soup 
and  claret ;  the  remainder  of  the  company  helped 
themselves  as  they  best  could  ;  and  I  saw  plainly 
enough  that  the  family  bosom  was  so  crowded  al- 


A   PRODIGAL  IN"  TAHITI  317 

ready,  that  I  might  seek  in  vain  to  wedge  myself 
into  any  corner  of  it,  at  least  until  some  vacancy 
occurred. 

After  dinner,  sat  on  a  sack  of  rice  in  my  room, 
while  it  grew  dark  and  Monsieur  received  calls  ; 
wandered  down  to  the  beach  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 
and  lay  a  long  time  on  a  bed  of  leaves,  while  the 
tide  was  out  and  the  crabs  clattered  along  shore  and 
were  very  sociable.  Natives  began  to  kindle  their 
evening  fires  of  cocoa-nut  husks  ;  smoke,  sweet  as 
incense,  climbed  up  to  the  plumes  of  the  palm-trees 
and  was  lost  among  the  stars.  Morsels  of  fish  and 
bread-fruit  were  offered  me  by  the  untutored  sav- 
age, who  welcomed  me  to  his  frugal  meal  and  de- 
sired that  I  should  at  least  taste  before  he  broke  his 
fast.  Canoes  shot  out  from  dense,  shadowy  points, 
fishers  standing  in  the  bows  with  a  poised  spear  in 
one  hand  ;  a  blazing  palm  branch  held  aloft  in  the 
other  shed  a  warm  glow  of  light  over  their  superb 
nakedness.  Bathed  by  the  sea,  in  a  fresh,  cool 
spring,  and  returned  to  my  little  coop,  which  was 
illuminated  by  the  glare  of  fifty  floating  beacons  ; 
looking  back  from  the  door  I  could  see  the  dark 
outlines  of  the  torch-bearers  and  hear  their  signal 
calls  above  the  low  growl  of  the  reef  a  half-mile 
farther  out  from  shore.  It  was  a  blessing  to  lie 
awake  in  my  little  room  and  watch  the  flicker  of 
those  fires  ;  to  think  how  Tahiti  must  look  on  a 
cloudless  night  from  some  heavenly  altitude — the 
ocean  still  as  death,  the  procession  of  fishermen 
sweeping  from  point  to  point  within  the  reef,  till 


3l8  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

the  island,  flooded  with  starlight  and  torchlight,  lies 
like  a  green  sea-garden  in  a  girdle  of  flame. 

A  shrill  bell  called  me  from  my  bed  at  dawn.  I 
was  not  unwilling  to  rise,  for  half  the  night  I  lay 
like  a  saint  on  the  tough  thongs,  having  turned 
over  in  sleep,  thereby  missing  the  mattress  entirely. 
Made  my  toilet  at  a  spring  on  the  way  into  town  ; 
saw  a  glorious  sunrise  that  was  as  good  as  break- 
fast, and  found  the  whole  earth  and  sea  and  all  that 
in  them  is  singing  again  while  I  listened  and  gave 
thanks  for  that  privilege.  At  10  A.M.  I  went  to 
breakfast  in  the  small  restaurant  where  I  have 
sketched  myself  at  the  top  of  this  chronicle,  and 
whither  we  may  return  and  begin  over  again  if  it 
please  you. 

I  was  about  to  remark  that  probably  most  melan- 
choly and  homesickness  may  be  cured  or  alleviated 
by  a  wholesome  meal  of  victuals ;  but  I  think  I 
won't,  for,  on  referring  to  my  note-book,  I  find  that 
within  an  hour  after  my  return  to  the  store  I  was  as 
heart-sick  as  ever  and  wasn't  afraid  to  say  so.  It 
is  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at :  the  sky  was  dark  ; 
aboard  a  schooner  some  sailors  were  making  that 
doleful  whine  peculiar  to  them,  as  they  hauled  in  to 
shore  and  tied  up  to  a  tree  in  a  sifting  rain  ;  then 
everything  was  ominously  still,  as  though  something 
disagreeable  were  about  to  happen  ;  thereupon  I 
doubled  myself  over  the  counter  like  a  half-shut 
jack-knife,  and  burying  my  face  in  my  hands,  said 
to  myself,  "  O,  to  be  alone  with  Nature  !  her  silence 
is  religion  and  her  sounds  sweet  music."  After 


A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  319 

which  the  rain  blew  over,  and  I  was  sent  with  a 
hand-cart  and  one  underfed  Kanack  to  a  wharf  half 
a  mile  away  to  drag  back  several  loads  of  potatoes. 
We  two  hungry  creatures  struggled  heroically  to 
do  our  duty.  Starting  with  a  multitude  of  sacks 
it  was  quite  impossible  to  proceed  with,  we  grew 
weaker  the  farther  we  went,  so  that  the  load  had  to 
be  reduced  from  time  to  time,  and  I  believe  the 
amount  of  potatoes  deposited  by  the  way  consider- 
ably exceeded  the  amount  we  subsequently  arrived 
at  the  store  with.  Finding  life  a  burden,  and  see- 
ing the  legs  of  the  young  fellow  in  harness  with 
me  bend  under  him  in  his  frantic  efforts  to  get 
our  cart  out  of  a  rut  without  emptying  it  entirely, 
I  resolved  to  hire  a  substitute  at  my  own  expense, 
and  save  my  remaining  strength  for  a  new  line  of 
business.  Thus  I  was  enabled  to  sit  on  the  wharf 
the  rest  of  the  afternoon  and  enjoy  myself  devising 
new  means  of  subsistence  and  watching  the  natives 
swim. 

Someone  before  me  found  a  modicum  of  sweets 
in  his  cup  of  bitterness,  and  in  a  complacent  hour 
set  the  good  against  the  evil  in  single  entry,  sum- 
ming up  the  same  to  his  advantage.  I  concluded 
to  do  it  myself,  and  did  it,  thus : 

EVIL.  GOOD. 

I  find  myself  in  a  foreign  But  I  may  do  as  I  please 

land  with  no  one  to  love  and  in  consequence,  and  it  is  no- 

none  to  love  me.  body's  business  save  my  own. 

I  am  working  for  my  board  But  I  may  quit  as  soon  as 


320 


SOUTH' SEA   IDYLS 


and  lodging  (no  extras),  and 
find  it  very  unprofitable. 


My  clothes  are  in  rags.  I 
shall  soon  be  without  a  stitch 
to  my  back. 


I  get  hungry  before  break- 
fast and  feel  faint  after  din- 
ner. What  are  two  meals  a 
day  to  a  man  of  my  appetite  ? 


I  feel  like  it,  and  shall  have 
no  occasion  to  dun  my  em- 
ployer for  back  salary  so  long 
as  I  stop  with  him. 

But  the  weather  is  mild 
and  the  fig-tree  flourisheth. 
Moreover,  many  a  good  sav- 
age has  gone  naked  before 
me. 

But  fasting  is  saintly.  Day 
by  day  I  grow  more  spiritual, 
and  shall  shortly  be  a  fit  sub- 
ject for  translation  to  that 
better  world  which  is  doubt- 
less the  envy  of  all  those 
who  have  lost  it  by  over-eat- 
ing and  drinking. 


Nothing  can  exceed  the  satisfaction  with  which  I 
read  and  re-read  this  philosophical  summary,  but  I 
had  relapses  every  few  minutes  so  long  as  I  lived  in 
Tahiti.  I  remember  one  Sunday  morning,  a  day  I 
had  all  to  myself,  when  I  cried  out  of  the  depths 
and  felt  better  after  it.  It  was  a  real  Sunday.  The 
fowls  confessed  it  by  the  indifference  with  which 
they  picked  up  a  grain  of  rice  now  and  then,  as 
though  they  weren't  hungry.  The  family  were 
moving  about  in  an  unnatural  way  ;  some  people 
are  never  themselves  on  the  Lord's  day.  The  ca- 
noes lay  asleep  off  upon  the  water,  evidently  con- 
scious of  the  long  hours  of  rest  they  were  sure  of 
having.  To  sum  it  all,  it  seemed  as  though  the 
cover  had  been  taken  off  from  the  earth,  and  the 


A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  321 

angels  were  sitting  in  big  circles  looking  at  us. 
Our  clock  had  run  down,  and  I  found  myself  half 
an  hour  too  early  at  mass.  Some  diminutive  native 
children  talked  together  with  infinite  gesticulation, 
like  little  old  men.  At  every  lag  in  the  conversa- 
tion, two  or  three  of  them  would  steal  away  to  the 
fence  that  surrounded  the  church  and  begin  dili- 
gently counting  the  pickets  thereof.  They  were 
evidently  amazed  at  what  they  considered  a  singular 
coincidence,  namely,  that  the  number  of  pickets, 
beginning  at  the  front  gate  and  counting  to  the 
right,  tallied  exactly  with  the  do.  do.  beginning  at 
the  do.  do.  and  counting  to  the  left ;  while  they 
were  making  repeated  efforts  to  get  at  the  heart  of 
this  mystery,  the  priest  rode  up  on  horseback,  dis- 
mounted in  our  midst,  and  we  all  followed  him  into 
chapel  to  mass. 

A  young  Frenchman  offered  me  holy  water  on  the 
tips  of  his  fingers,  and  I  immediately  decided  to 
confide  in  him  to  an  unlimited  extent  if  he  gave  me 
the  opportunity.  It  was  a  serious  disappointment 
when  I  found,  later,  that  we  didn't  know  six  words 
in  any  common  tongue.  Concluded  to  be  inde- 
pendent and  walked  off  by  myself.  Got  very  lone- 
some immediately.  Tried  to  be  meditative,  philo- 
sophical, botanical,  conchological,  and  in  less  than 
an  hour  gave  it  up — homesick  again,  by  Jove  ! 

Strolled  to  the  beach  and  sat  a  long  time  on  a 
bit  of  wreck  partly  embedded  in  the  sand  ;  consoled 
by  the  surpassing  radiance  of  sunset,  wondered 
how  I  could  ever  have  repined,  but  proceeded  to  do 


322J  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

it  again  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark.  Some  natives 
drew  near,  greeting  me  kindly.  They  were  evi- 
dently lovers;  talked  in  low  tones,  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  most  trivial  things,  such  as  a  leaf  fall- 
ing into  the  sea  at  our  feet  and  floating  stem  up, 
like  a  bowsprit ;  he  probably  made  some  poetic  al- 
lusion to  it,  may  have  proposed  braving  the  seas 
with  her  in  a  shallop  as  fairy-like,  for  both  fell 
a-dreaming  and  were  silent  for  some  time,  he  wor- 
shipping her  with  fascinated  eyes,  while  she,  wom- 
an-like, pretended  to  be  all  unconscious  of  his  ad- 
miration. 

Silently  we  sat  looking  over  the  sea  at  Moorea, 
just  visible  in  the  light  of  the  young  moon,  like  a 
spirit  brooding  upon  the  waters — till  I  broke  the 
spell  by  saying  "  Good-night,"  which  was  repeated 
in  a  chorus  as  I  withdrew  to  my  coop  and  found  my 
feathered  guests  had  beaten  in  the  temporary  bar- 
ricade erected  in  the  broken  window,  entered,  and 
made  themselves  at  home  during  my  absence — a 
fact  that  scarcely  endeared  the  spot  to  me.  Next 
morning  I  was  unusually  merry  ;  couldn't  tell  why, 
but  tried  to  sing  as  I  made  my  toilet  at  the  spring ; 
laughed  nearly  all  the  way  into  town,  saying  my 
prayers,  and  blessing  God,  when  I  came  suddenly 
upon  a  horse-shoe  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Took 
it  as  an  omen  and  a  keepsake  ;  horse-shoes  aren't 
shed  everywhere  nor  for  everybody.  I  thought  it 
the  prophecy  of  a  change,  and  at  once  cancelled  my 
engagement  with  my  employer  without  having  set 
foot  into  his  house  farther  than  the  dining-room, 


A   PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  323 

or  made  any  apparent  impression  upon  the  adaman- 
tine bosom  of  his  family. 

After  formally  expressing  my  gratitude  to  Mon- 
sieur for  his  renewed  offers  of  hospitality,  I  turned 
myself  into  the  street,  and  was  once  more  adrift  in 
the  world.  For  the  space  of  three  minutes  I  was 
wild  with  joy  at  the  thought  of  my  perfect  liberty. 
Then  I  grew  nervous,  began  to  feel  unhappy,  nay, 
even  guilty,  as  though  I  had  thrown  up  a  good 
thing.  Concluded  it  was  rash  of  me  to  leave  a  sit- 
uation where  I  got  two  meals  and  a  mattress,  with 
the  privilege  of  washing  at  my  own  expense.  Am 
not  sure  that  it  wasn't  unwise,  for  I  had  no  dinner 
that  afternoon  ;  and  having  no  bed  either,  I  crept 
into  the  veranda  of  a  house  to  lot  and  dozed  till 
daybreak. 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  live  for  now,  namely,  to 
see  as  much  of  Tahiti  as  possible,  and  at  my  earliest 
convenience  return  like  the  prodigal  son  to  that  fa- 
ther who  would  doubtless  feel  like  killing  something 
appropriate  as  soon  as  he  saw  me  coming.  I  said  as 
much  to  a  couple  of  Frenchmen,  brothers,  who  are 
living  a  dream-life  over  yonder,  and  whose  wildest 
species  of  dissipation  for  the  last  seven  years  has 
been  to  rise  at  intervals  from  their  settees  in  the 
arbor,  go  deliberately  to  the  farther  end  of  the  gar- 
den, and  eat  several  mangoes  in  cold  blood. 

To  comprehend  Tahiti,  a  man  must  lose  himself 
in  forests  whose  resinous  boughs  are  knotted  with 
ribbons  of  sea-grass  ;  there,  overcome  by  the  music 
of  sibilant  waters  sifting  through  the  antlers  of  the 


$24  SOUTH' SEA   IDYLS 

coral,  he  is  supposed  to  sink  upon  drifts  of  orange- 
blossoms,  only  to  be  resuscitated  by  the  spray  of  an 
approaching  shower  crashing  through  the  green 
solitudes  like  an  army  with  chariots — so  those 
brothers  said,  with  a  mango  poised  in  each  hand ; 
and  they  added  that  I  should  have  an  official  docu- 
ment addressed  to  the  best  blood  in  the  kingdom, 
namely,  Forty  Chiefs  of  Tahiti,  who  would  undoubt- 
edly entertain  me  with  true  barbarian  hospitality, 
better  the  world  knows  not.  There  was  a  delay  for 
some  reason  ;  I,  rather  impatient,  and  scarcely  hop- 
ing to  receive  so  graceful  a  compliment  from  head- 
quarters, trudged  on  alone  with  a  light  purse  and 
an  infinitesimal  bundle  of  necessities,  caring  noth- 
ing for  the  weather  nor  the  number  of  miles  cleared 
per  day,  since  I  laid  no  plans  save  the  one,  to  see  as 
much  as  I  might  with  the  best  grace  possible,  keep- 
ing an  eye  on  the  road  for  horse-shoes.  Through 
leagues  of  verdure  I  wandered,  feasting  my  five 
senses  and  finding  life  a  holiday  at  last.  There 
were  numberless  streams  to  be  crossed,  where  I 
loafed  for  hours  on  the  bridges,  satisfying  myself 
with  sunshine.  Not  a  savage  in  the  land  was  freer 
than  I.  No  man  could  say  to  me,  "  Why  stand  ye 
here  idle  ?  "  for  I  could  continue  to  stand  as  long  as 
I  liked  and  as  idly  as  it  pleased  me  in  spite  of  him  I 
There  were  bridgeless  streams  to  be  forded ;  but 
the  Tahitian  is  a  nomad  continually  wandering  from 
one  edge  of  his  fruitful  world  to  the  other  ;  more- 
over, he  is  the  soul  of  peace  toward  men  of  good- 
will ;  I  was  invariably  picked  up  by  some  bare- 


A  PRODIGAL  IX  TAHITI  325 

backed  Hercules,  -who  volunteered  to  take  me  over 
the  water  on  his  brawny  brown  shoulders,  and  could 
have  easily  taken  two  like  me.  It  was  good  to  be  up 
there  while  he  strode  through  the  swift  current,  for 
I  felt  that  he  was  perfectly  able  to  carry  me  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  without  stopping,  and  that  sense 
of  reliance  helped  to  reassure  my  faith  in  humanity. 

As  I  wandered,  from  most  native  houses  came 
the  invitation  to  enter  and  eat.  Night  after  night 
I  found  my  bed  in  the  corner  of  some  dwelling 
whither  I  had  been  led  by  the  master  of  it,  with 
unaffected  grace.  It  wasn't  simply  showing  me  to 
a  spare  room,  but  rather  unrolling  the  best  mat  and 
turning  everything  to  my  account  so  long  as  it 
pleased  me  to  tarry.  Sometimes  the  sea  talked  in 
its  sleep  not  a  rod  from  the  house ;  frequently  the 
mosquitoes  accepted  me  as  a  delicacy  and  did  their 
best  to  dispose  of  me.  Once  I  awoke  with  a  head- 
ache, the  air  was  so  dense  with  the  odor  of  orange- 
blossoms. 

There  was  frequently  a  strip  of  blue  bay  that 
ebbed  and  flowed  languidly  and  had  to  be  lunched 
with ;  or  a  very  deep  and  melodious  spring,  asking 
for  an  interview,  and,  I  may  add,  always  getting  it. 
I  remember  one  miniature  castle  built  in  the  midst 
of  a  grassy  Venice  by  the  shore.  Its  moats,  shining 
with  gold-fish,  were  spanned  with  slender  bridges ; 
toy  fences  of  bamboo  enclosed  the  rarer  clumps  of 
foliage  ;  and  there  was  such  an  air  of  tranquillity 
pervading  it  I  thought  I  must  belong  there.  Some- 
thing seemed  to  say,  "  Come  in."  I  went  in,  but 


326  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

left  very  soon  ;  the  place  was  so  fairy-like,  I  felt  as 
though  I  were  liable  to  step  through  it  and  come 
out  on  some  other  side,  and  I  wasn't  anxious  for 
such  a  change. 

I  ate  when  I  got  hungry  a  very  good  sort  of  a 
meal,  consisting  usually  of  a  tiny  piglet  cooked  in 
the  native  fashion,  swathed  in  succulent  leaves  and 
laid  between  hot  stones  till  ready  for  eating ;  bread- 
fruit, like  mashed  potato,  but  a  great  deal  better; 
orange-tea  and  cocoa-milk — surely  enough  for  two 
or  three  francs.  Took  a  sleep  whenever  sleep  came 
along,  resting  always  till  the  clouds  or  a  shadow 
from  the  mountain  covered  me  so  as  to  keep  cool 
and  comfortable.  Natives  passed  me  with  saluta- 
tions. A  white  man  now  and  then  went  by  barely 
nodding,  or  more  frequently  eying  me  with  suspi- 
cion and  giving  me  as  much  of  his  dust  as  he  found 
convenient.  In  the  wider  fellowship  of  nature  I 
forswore  all  blood  relations  and  blushed  for  those 
representatives  of  my  own  color  as  I  footed  it  right 
royally.  Therefore  I  was  enabled  to  scorn  the  fel- 
low who  scorned  me  while  he  flashed  the  steel  hoofs 
of  his  charger  in  my  face  and  dashed  on  to  the  vil- 
lage we  were  both  approaching  with  the  dusk. 

What  a  spot  it  was !  A  long  lane  as  green  as  a 
spring  meadow,  lying  between  wall-like  masses  of 
foliage  whose  deep  arcades  were  frescoed  with  blos- 
soms and  festooned  with  vines.  It  seemed  a  path- 
way leading  to  infinity,  for  the  blood-red  bars  of 
sunset  glared  at  its  farther  end  as  though  Provi- 
dence had  placed  them  there  to  keep  out  the  un- 


A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  327 

regenerated.  Not  a  house  visible  all  this  time,  nor 
a  human,  though  I  was  in  the  heart  of  the  hamlet. 
Passing  up  the  turf -cushioned  road  I  beheld  on 
either  hand,  through  a  screen  of  leaves,  a  log  span- 
ning a  rivulet  that  was  softly  singing  its  monody  ; 
at  the  end  of  each  log  the  summer-house  of  some 
Tahitian,  who  sat  in  his  door  smoking  complacently. 
It  was  a  picture  of  still  life  with  a  suggestion  of 
possible  motion ;  a  village  to  put  into  a  green- 
house, water,  and  keep  fresh  forever.  Let  me  pict- 
ure it  once  more — one  mossy  street  between  two 
babbling  brooks,  and  every  house  thereof  set  each 
in  its  own  moated  wilderness.  This  was  Papeali. 

Like  rows  of  cages  full  of  chirping  birds,  those 
bamboo  huts  were  distributed  up  and  down  the 
street.  As  I  walked  I  knew  something  would  cause 
me  to  turn  at  the  right  time  and  find  a  new  friend 
ready  to  receive  me,  for  it  always  does.  So  I 
walked  slowly  and  without  hesitation  or  impatience 
until  I  turned  and  met  him  coming  out  of  his  cage, 
crossing  the  rill  by  his  log  and  holding  out  his 
hand  to  me  in  welcome.  Back  we  went  together, 
and  I  ate  and  slept  there  as  though  it  had  been  ar- 
ranged a  thousand  years  ago ;  perhaps  it  was ! 
There  was  a  racket  up  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
lane,  by  the  chief's  house  ;  songs  and  nose-flutings 
upon  the  night  air  ;  moreover,  a  bonfire,  and  doubt- 
less much  nectar — too  much,  as  usual,  for  I  heard 
such  cheers  as  the  soul  gives  when  it  is  careless  of 
consequences,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  joys  of 
barbarism  such  as  even  we  poor  Christians  cannot 


328  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

wholly  withstand,  but  turning  our  backs  think  we 
are  safe  enough.  Commend  me  to  him  who  has 
known  temptation  and  not  shunned  it,  but  actually 
withstood  it ! 

It  was  the  dance,  as  ever  it  is  the  dance  where 
all  the  aspirations  of  the  soul  find  expression  in 
the  body ;  those  bodies  that  are  incarnate  souls  or 
those  souls  that  are  spiritualized  bodies,  insepara- 
ble, whatever  they  are,  for  the  time  being.  The  fire 
glowed  fervently  ;  bananas  hung  out  their  tattered 
banners  like  decorations  ;  palms  rustled  their  silver 
plumes  aloft  in  the  moonlight ;  the  sea  panted  up- 
on its  sandy  bed  in  heavy  sleep ;  the  night-bloom- 
ing cereus  opened  its  waxen  chambers  and  gave 
forth  its  treasured  sweets.  Circle  after  circle  of 
swart  savage  faces  were  turned  upon  the  flame-lit 
arena  where  the  dancers  posed  for  a  moment  with 
their  light  drapery  gathered  about  them  and  held 
carelessly  in  one  hand.  Anon  the  music  chimed 
forth — a  reiteration  of  chords  caught  from  the 
birds'  treble  and  the  wind's  bass  ;  full  and  resound- 
ing syllables,  richly  poetical,  telling  of  orgies  and 
of  the  mysteries  of  the  forbidden  revels  in  the 
charmed  valleys  of  the  gods,  hearing  which  it  were 
impossible  not  to  be  wrought  to  madness  ;  and  the 
dancers  thereat  went  mad,  dancing  with  infinite 
gesticulation,  dancing  to  whirlwinds  of  applause  till 
the  undulation  of  their  bodies  was  serpentine,  and 
at  last  in  frenzy  they  shrieked  with  joy,  threw  off 
their  garments,  and  were  naked  as  the  moon.  So 
much  for  a  vision  that  kept  me  awake  till  morning ; 


A  PRODIGAL  IN-  TAHITI  329 

when  I  plodded  on  in  the  damp  grass  and  tried 
to  forget  it,  but  couldn't  exactly,  and  never  have 
to  this  hour.  Went  on  and  on  over  more  bridges 
spanning  still-flowing  streams  of  silver,  past  springs 
that  lay  like  great  crystals  framed  in  moss  under 
dripping,  fern-clad  cliffs  that  the  sun  never  reaches. 
Came  at  last  to  a  shining,  whitewashed  fort,  on  an 
eminence  that  commands  the  isthmus  connecting 
the  two  hemispheres  of  Tahiti,  where  down  I 
dropped  into  a  narrow  valley  full  of  wind  and  dis- 
cord and  a  kind  of  dreary  neglect  that  made  me 
sick  for  any  other  place.  More  refreshment  for  the 
wayfarer,  but  to  be  paid  for  by  the  dish,  and  there- 
fore limited.  Was  obliged  to  hate  a  noisy  fellow 
with  too  much  bushy  black  beard  and  a  freckled 
nose,  and  to  like  another  who  eyed  me  kindly  over 
his  absinthe,  having  first  mixed  a  glass  for  me.  A 
native  asked  me  where  I  was  going ;  being  unable 
to  give  any  satisfactory  answer,  he  conducted  me  to 
his  canoe,  about  a  mile  distant,  where  he  cut  a 
sapling  for  a  mast,  another  for  a  gaff,  twisted,  in  a 
few  moments,  a  cord  of  its  fibrous  bark,  rigged  a 
sail  of  his  sleeping-blanket,  and  we  were  shortly 
wafted  onward  before  a  light  breeze  between  the 
reef  and  shore. 

Three  of  us,  with  a  bull-pup  in  the  bows,  dozed 
under  the  afternoon  sun.  He  of  the  paddle  awoke 
now  and  then  to  shift  sail,  beat  the  sea  impetuously 
for  a  few  seconds,  and  fall  asleep  again.  Voices 
roused  me  occasionally,  greetings  from  colonies  of 
indolent  Kanacks  on  shore,  whose  business  it  was 


33°  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

to  sit  there  till  they  got  hungry,  laughing  weariness 
to  scorn. 

Close  upon  our  larboard-bow  lay  one  of  the  isl- 
ands that  had  bewitched  me  as  I  paced  the  shore 
but  a  few  days  previous  ;  under  us  the  measureless 
gardens  of  the  sea  unmasked  a  myriad  imperishable 
blossoms,  centuries  old  some  of  them,  but  as  fair 
and  fresh  as  though  born  within  the  hour.  All  that 
afternoon  we  drifted  between  sea  and  shore,  and 
beached  at  sunset  in  a  new  land.  Foot-sore  and 
weary,  I  approached  a  stable  from  which  thrice  a 
week  stages  were  despatched  to  Papeete. 

A  modern  pilgrim  finds  his  scrip  cumbersome,  if 
he  has  any,  and  deems  it  more  profitable  to  pay  his 
coachman  than  his  cobbler. 

I  climbed  to  my  seat  by  the  jolly  French  driver, 
who  was  continually  chatting  with  three  merry  nuns 
sitting  just  back  of  us,  returning  to  the  convent  in 
Papeete  after  a  vacation  retreat  among  the  hills. 
How  they  enjoyed  the  ride,  as  three  children  might ! 
and  were  quite  wild  with  delight  at  meeting  a  cor- 
pulent p&re,  who  smiled  amiably  from  his  saddle 
and  offered  to  show  them  the  interior  of  the  pretty 
chapel  at  Faaa  (only  three  a's  in  that  word)— the 
veiy  one  I  grew  melancholy  in  when  I  was  a  man  of 
business. 

So  they  hurled  themselves  madly  from  the  high 
seat,  one  after  the  other,  scorning  to  touch  anything 
so  contaminating  as  a  man's  hand,  though  it  looked 
suicidal,  as  the  driver  and  I  agreed  while  the  three 
were  at  prayers  by  the  altar.  Whipping  up  over 


A   PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  331 

the  road  townward,  I  could  almost  recognize  my 
own  footprints  left  since  the  time  I  used  to  take 
the  dust  in  my  face  three  mornings  a  week  from  the 
wheels  of  that  very  vehicle  as  I  footed  it  in  to  busi- 
ness. Passing  the  spring,  my  toilet  of  other  days, 
drawing  to  the  edge  of  the  town,  we  stopped  being 
jolly  and  were  as  proper  as  befitted  travellers.  We 
looked  over  the  wall  of  the  convent  garden  as  we 
drove  up  to  the  gate,  and  saw  the  mother-superior 
hurrying  down  to.  us  with  a  cumbersome  chair  for 
the  relief  of  the  nuns,  but  before  she  reached  us 
they  had  cast  themselves  to  earth  again  in  the 
face  of  destiny,  and  there  was  kissing,  crying,  and 
commotion  as  they  withdrew  under  the  gateway 
like  so  many  doves  seeking  shelter.  When  the  gate 
closed  after  them,  I  heard  them  all  cooing  at  once, 
but  the  world  knows  nothing  further. 

Where  would  I  be  dropped  ?  asked  the  driver.  In 
the  middle  of  the  street,  please  you,  and  take  half 
my  little  whole  for  your  ride,  sir!  He  took  it, 
dropped  me  where  we  stood,  and  drove  away,  I  pre- 
tending to  be  very  much  at  my  ease.  God  help  me 
and  all  poor  hypocrites  ! 

I  sought  a  place  of  shelter,  or  rather  retirement, 
for  the  air  is  balm  in  that  country.  There  was  an 
old  house  in  the  middle  of  a  grassy  lawn  on  a  by- 
street ;  two  of  its  rooms  were  furnished  with  a  few 
papers  and  books,  and  certain  gentlemen  who  con- 
tribute to  its  support  lounge  in  when  they  have 
leisure  for  reading  or  a  chat.  I  grew  to  know  the 
place  familiarly.  I  stole  a  night's  lodging  on  its 


332  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

veranda  in  the  shadow  of  a  passion-vine  ;  but,  for 
fear  of  embarrassing  some  early  student  in  pursuit 
of  knowledge,  I  passed  the  second  night  on  the  floor 
of  the  dilapidated  cook-house,  where  the  ants  cov- 
ered me.  I  endured  the  tortures  of  one  who  bares 
his  body  to  an  unceasing  shower  of  sparks ;  but  I 
survived. 

There  was,  in  this  very  cook-house,  a  sink  six  feet 
in  length  and  as  wide  as  a  coffin  ;  the  third  night  I 
lay  like  a  galvanized  corpse  with  his  lid  off  till  a  rat 
sought  to  devour  me,  when  I  took  to  the  streets  and 
walked  till  morning.  By  this  time  the  president  of 
the  club,  whose  acquaintance  I  had  the  honor  of, 
tendered  me  the  free  use  of  any  portion  of  the  prem- 
ises that  might  not  be  otherwise  engaged.  With  a 
gleam  of  hope  I  began  my  explorations.  Up  a  nar- 
row and  winding  stair  I  found  a  spacious  loft.  It 
was  like  a  mammoth  tent,  a  solitary  centre-pole  its 
only  ornament.  Creeping  into  it  on  all-fours,  I 
found  a  fragment  of  matting,  a  dry  crust,  an  empty 
soda-bottle — footprints  on  the  sands  of  time. 

"Poor  soul!"  I  gasped;  "where  did  you  come 
from?  What  did  you  come  for?  Whither,  O, 
whither,  have  you  flown  ?  " 

I  might  have  added,  How  did  you  manage  to  get 
there  ?  But  the  present  was  so  important  a  consid- 
eration, I  had  no  heart  to  look  beyond  it.  The  next 
ten  nights  I  passed  in  the  silent  and  airy  apartment 
of  my  anonymous  predecessor.  Ten  nights  I  crossed 
the  unswept  floor  that  threatened  at  every  step  to 
precipitate  me  into  the  reading-room  below.  With 


•A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  333 

a  faint  heart  and  hollow  stomach  I  threw  myself 
upon  my  elbow  and  strove  to  sleep.  I  lay  till  my 
heart  stopped  beating,  my  joints  were  wooden,  and 
my  four  limbs  corky  beyond  all  hope  of  reanima- 
tion.  There  the  mosquito  revelled,  and  it  was  a 
promising  place  for  centipedes. 

At  either  end  of  the  building  an  open  window  ad- 
mitted the  tip  of  a  banana-leaf  ;  up  their  green  ribs 
the  sprightly  mouse  careered.  I  broke  the  back- 
bones of  these  banana-leaves,  though  they  were  the 
joy  of  my  soul  and  would  have  adorned  the  choicest 
conservatory  in  the  land.  Day  was  equally  unprofit- 
able to  me.  My  best  friends  said,  "Why  not  re- 
turn to  California  ?  "  Every  one  I  met  invited  me 
to  leave  the  country  at  my  earliest  convenience. 
The  American  consul  secured  me  a  passage,  to  be 
settled  for  at  home,  and  my  career  in  that  latitude 
was  evidently  at  an  end.  In  my  superfluous  confi- 
dence in  humanity  I  had  announced  myself  as  a  cor- 
respondent for  the  press.  It  was  quite  necessary 
that  I  should  give  some  plausible  reason  for  mak- 
ing my  appearance  in  Tahiti  friendless  and  poor. 
Therefore,  I  said  plainly,  "  I  am  a  correspondent, 
friendless  and  poor,"  believing  that  any  one  would 
see  truth  in  the  face  of  it,  with  half  an  eye.  "  Prove 
it,"  said  one  who  knew  more  of  the  world  than  I. 
Then  flashed  upon  me  the  alarming  fact  that  I 
couldn't  prove  it,  having  nothing  whatever  in  my 
possession  referring  to  it  in  the  slightest  degree. 
It  was  a  fatal  mistake  that  might  easily  have  been 
avoided,  but  was  too  well  established  to  be  rectified. 


334  SOUTH-SEA   IDYLS 

In  my  chagrin  I  looked  to  the  good  old  bishop 
for  consolation.  Approaching  the  Mission  House 
through  sunlit  cloisters  of  palms,  I  was  greeted 
most  tenderly.  I  would  have  gladly  taken  any 
amount  of  Holy  Orders  for  the  privilege  of  ending 
my  troublous  days  in  the  sweet  seclusion  of  the 
Mission  House. 

As  it  was,  I  received  a  blessing,  an  autograph, 
and  a  "God-speed"  to  some  other  part  of  creation. 
Added  to  this  I  learned  how  the  address  to  the 
Forty  Chiefs  of  Tahiti  in  behalf  of  the  foreign  trav- 
eller, my  poor  self,  had  been  despatched  to  me  by 
a  special  courier,  who  found  me  not ;  and  doubt- 
less the  f$tes  I  heard  of  and  was  forever  missing 
marked  the  march  of  that  messenger,  my  proxy, 
in  his  triumphal  progress. 

In  my  innocent  degradation  it  was  still  neces- 
sary to  nourish  the  inner  man.  There  is  a  mar- 
ket in  Papeete  where,  under  one  broad  roof,  three- 
score hucksters  of  both  sexes  congregate  long  be- 
fore daylight,  and,  while  a  few  candles  illumine 
their  wares,  patiently  await  custom.  A  half-dozen 
coolies  with  an  eye  to  business  serve  hot  cof- 
fee and  chocolate  at  a  dime  per  cup  to  any  who 
choose  to  ask  for  it.  By  7  A.M.  the  market  is  so 
nearly  sold  out  that  only  the  more  plentiful  fruits 
of  the  country  are  to  be  obtained  at  any  price.  A 
prodigal  cannot  long  survive  on  husks,  unless  he 
have  coffee  to  wash  them  down.  I  took  my  cup  of 
it,  with  two  spoonfuls  of  sugar  and  ants  dipped  out 
of  a  cigar-box,  and  a  crust  of  bread  into  the  bargain, 


A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  335 

sitting  on  a  bench  in  the  market-place,  with  a  coolie 
and  a  Kanack  on  either  hand. 

It  was  not  the  coffee  nor  the  sugared  ants  that  I 
gave  my  dime  for,  but  rather  the  privilege  of  sitting 
in  the  midst  of  men  and  women  who  were  willing  to 
accept  me  as  a  friend  and  helpmate  without  ques- 
tioning my  ancestry,  and  any  one  of  whom  would  go 
me  halves  in  the  most  disinterested  manner.  Then 
there  was  sure  to  be  some  superb  fellow  close  at 
hand,  with  a  sensuous  lip  curled  under  his  nostril, 
a  glimpse  of  which  gave  me  a  dime's  worth  of  satis- 
faction and  more  too.  Having  secreted  a  French 
roll  (five  cents)  all  hot,  under  my  coat,  and  gathered 
the  bananas  that  would  fall  in  the  yard  so  season- 
ably, I  made  my  day  as  brief  and  comfortable  as 
possible  by  filling  up  with  water  from  time  to  time. 

The  man  who  has  passed  a  grimy  chop-house, 
wherein  a  frowzy  fellow  sat  at  his  cheap  spread, 
without  envying  the  frowzy  fellow  his  cheap  spread, 
cannot  truly  sympathize  with  me. 

The  man  who  has  not  felt  a  great  hollow  in  his 
stomach,  which  he  found  necessary  to  fill  at  the  first 
fountain  he  came  to,  or  go  over  on  his  beam-ends 
for  lack  of  ballast,  cannot  fall  upon  my  neck  and 
call  me  brother. 

At  daybreak  I  haunted  those  street  fountains, 
waiting  my  turn  while  French  cooks  filled  almost 
fathomless  kegs,  and  coolies  filled  pot-bellied  jars, 
and  Kanacks  filled  their  hollow  bamboos  that  seemed 
fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length.  There  I  meekly 
made  my  toilet,  took  my  first  course  of  breakfast, 


336  SOUTH-SEA  IDYLS 

rinsed  out  my  handkerchiefs  and  stockings,  and 
went  my  way.  The  whole  performance  was  embar- 
rassing, because  I  was  a  novice  and  a  dozen  people 
watched  me  in  curious  silence.  I  had  also  a  boot 
with  a  suction  in  the  toe  ;  there  is  dust  in  Papeete  ; 
while  I  walked  that  boot  loaded  and  discharged  it- 
self in  a  manner  that  amazed  and  amused  a  small 
mob  of  little  natives  who  followed  me  in  my  free 
exhibition,  advertising  my  shooting  -  boot  gratui- 
tously. 

I  was  altogether  shabby  in  my  outward  appear- 
ance, and  cannot  honestly  upbraid  any  resident  of 
the  town  for  his  neglect  of  me.  I  know  that  I  suf- 
fered the  agony  of  shame  and  the  pangs  of  hunger  ; 
but  they  were  nothing  to  the  utter  loneliness  I  felt 
as  I  wandered  about  with  my  heart  on  my  sleeve, 
and  never  a  bite  from  so  much  as  a  daw. 

Did  you  ever  question  the  possibility  of  a  man's 
temporary  transformation  under  certain  mental, 
moral,  or  physical  conditions  ?  There  are  seasons 
when  he  certainly  isn't  what  he  was,  yet  may  be 
more  and  better  than  he  has  been,  if  you  give  him 
time  enough. 

I  began  to  think  I  had  either  suffered  this  trans- 
formation or  been  maliciously  misinformed  as  to  my 
personality.  Was  I  truly  what  I  represented  myself 
to  be,  or  had  I  been  a  living  deception  all  my  days? 
No  longer  able  to  identify  myself  as  any  one  in  par- 
ticular, it  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  well  to 
address  a  few  lines  to  the  gentleman  I  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  calling  "  father,"  asking  for  some  par- 


A  PRODIGAL  IN"  TAHITI  337 

ticulars  concerning  his  absent  son.    I  immediately 
drew  up  this  document  ready  for  mailing : 

MOSQUITO  HALL,  CENTIPEDE  AVENUE,  PAPEETE. 

DEAR  SIR  :  A  nondescript  awaits  identification  at 
this  office.  Answers  to  the  names  at  the  foot  of  this 
page,  believes  himself  to  be  your  son,  to  have  been 
your  son,  or  about  to  be  something  equally  near  and 
dear  to  you.  He  can  repeat  several  chapters  of  the 
New  Testament  at  the  shortest  notice  ;  recites  most 
of  the  Catechism  and  Commandments  ;  thinks  he 
would  recognize  two  sisters  and  three  brothers  at 
sight,  and  know  his  mother  with  his  eyes  shut. 

He  likewise  confesses  to  the  usual  strawberry- 
mark  in  fast  colors.  If  you  will  kindly  send  by  re- 
turn mail  a  few  dollars,  he  will  clothe,  feed,  and 
water  himself,  and  return  immediately  to  those  arms 
which,  if  his  memory  does  not  belie  him,  have  more 
than  once  sheltered  his  unworthy  frame.  I  have, 
dear  sir,  the  singular  fortune  to  be  the  article  above 
described. 

The  six  months  which  would  elapse  before  I  could 
hope  for  an  answer  would  probably  have  found  me 
past  all  recognition,  so  I  ceased  crying  to  the  com- 
passionate bowels  of  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry,  waiting 
with  haggard  patience  the  departure  of  the  vessel 
that  was  to  bear  me  home  with  a  palpable  C.  O.  D. 
tacked  on  to  me.  Those  last  hours  were  brightened 
by  the  delicate  attentions  of  a  few  good  souls  who 
learned,  too  late,  the  shocking  state  of  my  case. 
Thanks  to  them,  I  slept  well  thereafter  in  a  real  bed, 
and  was  sure  of  dinners  that  wouldn't  rattle  in  me 
like  a  withered  kernel  in  an  old  nutshell. 
22 


338  SOUTH- SEA   IDYLS 

I  had  but  to  walk  to  the  beach,  wave  my  lily  hand, 
heavily  tanned  about  that  time,  when  lo  !  a  boat  was 
immediately  despatched  from  the  plump  little  cor- 
vette Cheveret ;  where  the  tricolor  waved  trium- 
phantly from  sunrise  to  sunset,  all  the  year  round. 

Such  capital  French  dinners  as  I  had  there,  such 
offers  of  bed  and  board  and  boundless  sympathy  as 
were  made  me  by  those  dear  fellows  who  wore  the 
gold-lace  and  had  a  piratical-looking  cabin  all  to 
themselves,  were  enough  to  wring  a  heart  that  had 
been  nearly  wrung  out  in  its  battle  with  life  in 
Tahiti. 

No  longer  I  walked  the  streets  as  one  smitten 
with  the  plague,  or  revolved  in  envious  circles  about 
the  market-place,  where  I  could  have  got  my  fill  for 
a  half-dollar,  but  had  neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 
No  longer  I  went  at  daybreak  to  swell  the  proces- 
sion at  the  water-spout,  or  sat  on  the  shore  the  pict- 
ure of  despair,  waiting  sunrise,  finding  it  my  sole 
happiness  to  watch  a  canoe-load  of  children  drifting 
out  upon  the  bay,  singing  like  a  railful  of  larks  ;  nor 
walked  solitarily  through  the  night  up  and  down  the 
narrow  streets  wherein  the  gendarmes  had  learned 
to  pass  me  unnoticed,  with  my  hat  under  my  arm 
and  my  heart  in  my  throat.  Those  delicious  moons 
always  seduced  me  from  my  natural  sleep,  and  I 
sauntered  through  the  cocoa-groves  whose  boughs 
glistened  like  row  after  row  of  crystals,  whose 
shadows  were  as  mosaics  wrought  in  blocks  of  sil- 
ver. 

I  used  to  nod   at   the  low,  whitewashed  "  cala- 


A  PRODIGAL  IN  TAHITI  339 

booses  "  fairly  steaming  in  the  sun,  wherein  Herman 
Melville  got  some  chapters  of  "  Omoo." 

Over  and  over  again  I  tracked  the  ground  of  that 
delicious  story,  saying  to  the  bread-fruit  trees  that 
had  sheltered  him,  "  Shelter  me  also,  and  whoever 
shall  follow  after,  so  long  as  your  branches  quiver 
in  the  wind  !  " 

O  reader  of  "  Omoo,"  think  of  "  Motoo-Otoo," 
actually  looking  warlike  in  these  sad  days,  with  a 
row  of  new  cannons  around  its  edge,  and  pyramids 
of  balls  as  big  as  cocoa-nuts  covering  its  shady 
centre. 

Walking  alone  in  those  splendid  nights  I  used  to 
Lear  a  dry,  ominous  coughing  in  the  huts  of  the  na- 
tives. I  felt  as  though  I  were  treading  upon  the 
brinks  of  half-dug  graves,  and  I  longed  to  bring  a 
respite  to  the  doomed  race. 

One  windy  afternoon  we  cut  our  stern  hawser  in 
a  fair  wind  and  sailed  out  of  the  harbor ;  I  felt  a 
sense  of  relief,  and  moralized  for  five  minutes  with- 
out stopping.  Then  I  turned  away  from  all  lis- 
teners and  saw  those  glorious  green  peaks  growing 
dim  in  the  distance ;  the  clouds  embraced  them  in 
their  profound  secrecy  ;  like  a  lovely  mirage  Tahiti 
floated  upon  the  bosom  of  the  sea.  Between  sea 
and  sky  was  swallowed  up  vale,  garden,  and  water- 
fall ;  point  after  point  crowded  with  palms ;  peak 
above  peak  in  that  eternal  crown  of  beauty ;  and 
with  them  the  nation  of  warriors  and  lovers  falliDg 
like  the  leaf,  but,  unlike  it,  with  no  followers  in  the 
new  season. 


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